


Bonds of Honor

by Mendeia



Series: Fairytale Hotdish [2]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fairy Tale Retellings, Family Feels, Gen, Honor, Misinterpretation of Japanese Culture, POV First Person, Reinterpretation of Alchemy, Snarky Donatello, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 84,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mendeia/pseuds/Mendeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rated/warning for suicide ideation. Donatello is an alchemist in the service of his Master Hamato Yoshi along with his father and brothers, when the unthinkable happens. Lost in pain and dishonor, Donatello is presented with a deadly alliance with a monster, a Beast, that will change him, his family, and the Beast forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story will involve suicide ideation. A lot of it. And I feel like I can't put that out there without following it up to say that killing oneself is never the right answer. Never. And it isn't the only answer, either. There is always an alternative, and there is always a reason to keep going. If you need a reason, here's one – you are reading my story, and that makes you valuable because it matters to me. So if the idea of hurting yourself feels appealing and if you have no one else to think of, for my sake, go look up the Suicide Prevention Hotline and let someone tell you that you matter. Okay?
> 
> Also, there will be some gore and some description of gore.
> 
> Further author's notes at the bottom of first chapter.

 

My name is Donatello and I have a pretty great life.

I'm the third of four brothers: Leonardo, Raphael, and Michelangelo, although we're almost effectively the same age. But hierarchy matters in the Clan, so it's important to know who came in first. Leo has that dubious privilege. I'm still not sure how Master Splinter determined eldest from youngest when he adopted us – we were all just babies. Leo thinks he just _knew_ , Raph thinks he guessed randomly (and wrongly, if you ask him), and Mikey claims he picked his favorite to be the youngest and worked backwards. Me, I'm inclined to think Master Splinter didn't decide who was the oldest until later, when our personalities became apparent. Because there's no doubt we all fit where we are, no matter what Raph says about it.

Leonardo is strong and wise, and he is the best of the four of us at all our training, from pure ninjitsu to stealth to tactics to the mystic arts of meditation. He's always alert, always looking out for danger or weakness so he can step in to protect the rest of us. He's also got a serious superiority complex and could use a couple of years of vacation, but he'll never take any time for himself. He's Master Splinter's right hand, as befits the eldest son, and he is always preparing himself for a worse battle or a more difficult kata. When Master Splinter hands over command of the family to him, he'll be so ready for it he might explode. But he's reliable and trustworthy and he embodies all our honor. We're lucky to have him.

Raphael is, first and foremost, loyal. He comes off as if he were nothing but a hotheaded brute, slamming his weight around and blowing off his temper at the slightest provocation, but half of that is an act and we know it. Raph would kill or die for any one of us, and most of his rage is based in fear that he won't be there to protect us when we need it. He clashes with Leo over _everything_. You name it, they fight over it. A proper second-in-command isn't supposed to challenge the Clan's authority that way, but it has always worked for us. Even when they hate each other, Leo and Raph care about each other on a deep, powerful level, and without Raph to push him, Leo would lose a lot of his intensity. Raph is our strength the way Leo is our honor.

Michelangelo, the youngest, is carefree and funny and irresponsible, which is his way of keeping things from getting too serious. Leo and Raph can go days locked in a cycle of fighting and then refusing to speak to one another, and it's usually Mikey who breaks them out of it by one-upping them or catching them off guard or just making them laugh. Mikey could be as good of a ninja as Leo if he ever tried – he's got a raw athleticism even the "fearless leader" envies, but then, that would require Mikey to sit still long enough to learn to master it. Mikey's priorities have always revolved around the things that make him and everybody else happy, from cooking to storytelling to practical jokes. He teases Raph and pranks Leo and he can quip at our enemies while pulling off some crazy stunt that _shouldn't_ work but just _does_ because he's Mikey and he makes the impossible possible. Mikey's our joy and hope and, especially after a long day, our honesty – he always says the worst possible thing at the worst possible time, and it's usually what we're all thinking.

And me? Well, I'm the third son, and really not much is ever expected of a third or fourth son in a Clan, so while Mikey took that freedom and became Mr Joy And Sunshine And Oh So Much Snark, I went another direction and delved into my studies. I'm a passable ninja, don't get me wrong, but I will never drive myself to the bone like Leo or pound for hours to build up my strength like Raph, and I've got nothing on Mikey. I'm not the strongest or the sneakiest or the fastest, and any one of my brothers can beat me in a fair fight. But my real virtue has always been that I'm uncommonly intelligent. Which, in most ninja Clans, is a nice way of saying "you're a waste of space," but Master Splinter was very firm from the start that each of us had our contributions and never lets others in the Clan get away with whispering about "that useless third son." And I'm _not_ useless. I'm just different from the rest of them. I'm clever even for an Animal, and I've learned all kinds of things from experimentation and curiosity. I'd like to be a true alchemist someday, not just a tinkerer like I am now, but for that I'd need a lot more room and a proper lab and more books. And possibly a little peace and quiet once in a while.

Our Clan is unique in that we're one of the only Clans in the area to include Animals. And I don't mean "animals" like "critters that run around on the forest floor." I mean Animals – anthropomorphic creatures who have vaguely humanoid features and high intelligence. (It's always bugged me that Animals are gauged on their Animal-ness by comparing them to humans, but then again, there are other turtles out there who aren't Animals and there aren't any humans like that, so it makes sense even if it rankles my pride.) Animals are rare – we're thought to be the offspring of some kind of wild magic or alchemical processes, but we don't really know where we come from. Most Animals just appear one day, walking out of a forest or swimming up from the sea and realize that they can learn speech if they try. My brothers and I were lucky – we were found when we were turtle babies by Master Splinter, who is also an Animal, a rat. He took us back to his Lord and was given permission to raise us as Clan.

Our Feudal Lord, Master Hamato Yoshi, is just about the best and most honorable human I've ever met. So many other Lords would have ordered a quartet of Animal turtle babies drowned or cast out upon discovery, as it would be many years before we would be able to serve; at that age we were no more useful than human infants and twice as troublesome. But Master Yoshi covered us all with his robe and gave us to Master Splinter to raise as his sons. So we became part of the Hamato Clan and were trained from that day by Master Splinter to serve our Lord and protect him. There are plenty of rank-and-file soldiers under Master Yoshi, but Master Splinter only taught the four of us to be ninja, and we are always trying to live up to that great honor by proving ourselves. It helps that, for whatever reason, Animals tend to be better than average humans at many things; we're often stronger or more intelligent or more resilient. In our case, the four of us are exceptional even by Animal standards.

That's not conceit. It's simply fact.

But it helps that we have a good and strong sensei in Master Splinter, and he has led us to many victories on behalf of our Master Yoshi. The lands around us are always in turmoil, and other Feudal Lords are often looking to seize Master Yoshi's territory for their own. That's where we come in – the Clan soldiers might hold back an opposing army, but my brothers and I make sure it rarely gets that far. Scouting parties are always sent home in pieces, and assassins are discovered and stopped before they ever reach the central compound. We aren't cruel – we follow the ways of honor – but this valley is Master Yoshi's, and as such, it is under our protection. We don't permit others to harass the peasants or steal from our people, and we make sure all those who live under Master Yoshi are always taken care of, whether that means fighting off bandits or helping in the harvest.

Often, it's Leo and Raph driving off the bandits and Mikey and I doing all the harvesting. I think my older brothers are allergic to any kind of work that isn't related to fighting sometimes.

It's always been a good life. I mean, I argue with my brothers as much as anybody else would with three such distinct and strong personalities trying to share their space, but I would never, ever turn my shell on them. And they would never ever turn their shell on me. We're Clan, we're family, and we're brothers. If one falters, the others step up. If one falls, the others will fight on until we have bled vengeance from the very stones. It's part of why our Clan is so strong – we aren't just fighting for honor or glory. We're fighting for one another, and if I wouldn't drive myself to my best just on my own behalf, or even for Master Yoshi, there is nothing I wouldn't do for my father and my brothers.

Good thing, too. 'Cause this day might well be my greatest test ever.

I'm just finishing up at my workbench when I hear the smallest noise behind me. A lifetime of listening has taught me to tell every sound apart instantly, observing and dismissing without conscious thought, so I don't even tense. A moment later, there is the near-silent sliding of my door.

But I don't turn to the door – one-handed, I take my bo from its place strapped to my shell and bring it down with a firm strike into the blind-side shadows on my right, swinging it overhand as a master raps the knuckles of an inattentive pupil at lessons.

"Don't touch it," I say without looking up. "It's not ready yet."

It's not often I catch Leo off-guard like that, so I stifle a laugh as he sighs angrily and shoves at the bo – I'd gotten him right on the forearm.

"You've been working on that armor for weeks, Don. If Master Yoshi can't wear it to battle tonight…"

"He will," I assure him, looking up at last. "But the symbols are still drying. If you smear them now, they won't work."

"If you say so," Leo shrugs. He understands the principles behind alchemy, but not its intricacies. To Leo, one wiggly shape is the same as another, but to me it's the difference of a spell to prevent rust to a spell that causes it.

"How soon do we move out?" I ask, standing with my pot of newly mixed ink to inscribe the final sigils.

"As soon as the moon rises." Leo steps back and watches me for a little while as I slowly and carefully work the ink into the last few forms and secret symbols that will imbue the armor with protection and luck. "It always amazes me."

"That I can do this?" I have to balance the brush between my teeth so I can move some lacings out of the way without putting down the ink, so it comes out more "Dat ah ken dloo dit?"

"Well, that you are so good at these symbols and yet your calligraphy is so hard to read," Leo smirks at me.

I take the brush out and go back to my work on the side of the breastplate, scowling. "My calligraphy is _fine_. Just because I don't feel the need to observe every ancient form of perfect writing when I'm taking notes like _some_ turtles."

"I think you do it so we can't read your notes," Leo teases me. "You like making it hard for us."

"You could always take some time to actually learn alchemy yourself," I suggest mildly.

It's an old taunt. When we were children, Leo would be right beside me studying, while Raph and Mikey found increasingly-creative ways to get out of it. But when the time came for learning about alchemy, Leo got really frustrated. He's highly observant and has a well-trained eye, but he remembers the moves of forms and katas better than the tiny differentiators in alchemical symbols. One swoosh to the left can change the entire purpose of a symbol. How he memorized enough characters to master artful calligraphy I'll never know – I suspect he gave up on alchemy because he realized I would handle it, but as the proper oldest son he had to be able to do the fancy writing stuff. Anyway, for years I've tried to get even one of my other brothers interested in alchemy the way I am, just as a backup. One winter I got really sick and they had to go on a mission without me, and they sure missed my little tricks for making fire hotter and wood drier and blankets warmer! But they came home and learned just those basics and then left me to the rest of it.

Oh well. If they hadn't, if they all bent themselves to be alchemists, there might be less I could do to serve the Clan, and then where would I be? Not out, not with this family, certainly. But I'd have to get good at something else. I'm also a fair blacksmith, and I've been taught to make weapons, but I've not had a lot of chances to practice yet. Besides, the weapon that breaks the most often around here is mine, and a wooden bo doesn't take a forge to recreate. I am superb at finding the proper sort of tree to fashion a new bo for myself – I can locate a good branch and sand it down within the hour if I'm really motivated. And once or twice, when I didn't have that hour, I just fought with a barked branch and bound up my poor fingers later.

"Is there anything else you need before we head out?" Leo ignores my point as usual.

"Nope," I say, brushing ink carefully over the helmet. "My pack is already full enough, thanks." I tip my head to the shoulder-bag I often carry. It has everything from some basic alchemical ingredients to some tools for emergency repairs (or breaking in), to a few critical medical supplies. That's me, the do-it-all turtle, Donnie the Versatile.

"Glad to hear it, little brother."

I finish my last sigil and look at Leo in concern, my forehead wrinkling. "What's worrying you?"

"What do you mean?" he tries to deflect. Oh, Leonardo. Don't try that on me. It hasn't worked since we were tiny.

"You're obviously bothered. Come on – out with it."

Leo smiles sheepishly. "What gave me away?"

You mean besides everything? Now that I'm looking at him, it couldn't be clearer if he was waving his arms and shouting. Which is usually how Mikey gets our attention, actually. I set down my ink and brush and face him, crossing my arms across my plastron. "You only ever call me 'little brother' when something's up. Something big."

"It's not necessarily big," Leo shakes his head. "It's just…Master Splinter and I had a vision in meditation today."

I tense. "Dire?"

"Very," he nods wearily. "Nothing but shadow and evil and sorrow."

I step close to him. Leonardo's visions are always good, and if and Master Splinter shared it…

He reads the look in my eyes and sighs. "Don't tell the other two, okay? I've got enough to worry about without either of them getting paranoid. You know how they are?"

"You mean how Raph won't leave anybody alone no matter what it does to the mission and Mikey will get nervous and make mistakes? Yeah, I know." I tip my head. "But you told me? You never tell me."

"I know," Leo reaches out and grips my shoulder. He squeezes tightly and I can see the worry in every taut line and sinew of his body. "But it's different this time. I just…I thought someone else should know." He stares into my eyes. "I need you to be ready."

"Ready for what?" I ask.

"Anything."

After that so very cheerful statement, Leo makes an exit that is equal parts drama and dismissal. If he wore a cape, it would swirl around him like the wind itself was dancing in his wake. I know he does it deliberately – Leo is not just preoccupied with the actual strength of the Clan, but also the _perceived_ strength of the Clan. If he looks like an intimidating force to be reckoned with, which he absolutely is, by the way, he wins the mental battle before he even draws his swords.

But I know him too well. There's a hitch in his step, a tension in his shoulders. That cape wouldn't quite swirl right if he were wearing it now. Leonardo is really worried this time.

Not that I can really blame him. Tomorrow we face perhaps the most dangerous and important battle of our lives even before the warning of Leo's meditations. Master Yoshi has a neighbor to the south with whom we have always had an alliance, and that neighbor called upon us in the spirit of friendship to help him defend his own borders. There is a Lord who has been taking conquest to a new extreme, sweeping through the land, and at last he has turned his eye this way. Master Yoshi will be leading us and many of the soldiers into battle to help support and defend our ally, because if this Lord burns through the lands to the south, we will be next.

Something about Leo's paranoia must be contagious, because I find myself turning back to my workbench in contemplation. There's truly nothing more I can do for Master Yoshi's new set of armor – it has been the labor of the last year, not to mention the months spent planning it. Every _ikada_ was hand-crafted, every _kawa odoshi_ specifically cured and cut for its purpose, the _suneate_ measured twice (thanks to our Master's patience) and tested extensively for perfect freedom of movement. And at every stage of the process I worked alchemy into the very metals and leathers, the coals to heat and temper, the hammers and delicate tools that wrought every piece. It is my finest work and a true masterpiece. I have turned myself inside out in its creation and there is literally nothing more I can do for it now.

But the lessons of this past year are strong with me, too, and just because I cannot better protect Master Yoshi does not mean I am idle. So, after I call a body-servant to _carefully_ deliver the armor to our Master's chambers, I have a few hours yet before moonrise, and I intend to use them. As part of our pre-battle ritual, my brothers have left me with their primary weapons for inspection and, if possible, improvement. A few years ago, one of Mikey's nunchaku broke in combat when he had thoughtlessly wrenched a bent piece back into its approximate shape without considering the weakness inherent in the metal after such treatment. Since then, if we know we will be fighting, they all give me their weapons the day before so I can ensure they never break in their hands again.

By the time Leo returns to collect me, Raph and Mikey at his heels, I have done everything I could think of twice over on their weapons. I can see from their faces that they are surprised.

Leonardo fights with twin katanas, master of not one but two weapons and several different complimentary disciplines. The katanas themselves are a little shorter than those a human would use, and heavier too – a testament to my brother's skill and strength – making them harder for anyone else to wield and much more deadly in his hands. The blades gleam as they always do after my care, but this time I have added something extra. A long series of sigils run the length of each blade, the ink sunk straight into the metal by the power of alchemy. The scroll-work is aesthetically lovely, but the power imbued is far more important. Knowing Leo as I do, I didn't dare make any modifications to the _tsubas_ or _tsukas_ , as it could throw off his extremely delicate balance.

Raphael's sais were much harder, but eventually I found a way to run a spiral of symbols around each of the wicked points, and the _tsukagashira_ bears a powerful sigil at its heavy, rounded end. Raph is a brawler and a close-in fighter, though his weapons are traditionally also the proper counter against a swordmaster. The real trick to improving the sais lies in what cannot be seen – beneath the leather wraps that soften the grips is a tightly-woven series of symbols that are so strong they have left imprints in the leather itself. But the braidings that cover the _tsuka_ are thick, also covered with symbols in simple ink this time, so I hope he won't mind the difference.

Michelangelo fights with a pair of nunchaku, which I know inside and out as he's broken them more than once. Unlike the traditional style, where a stout cord would connect the two batons, Mikey's are joined by thick _kusari_ chains. Each link in the _kusari_ has had a sigil added to it in at least one place, and where the _kusari_ are clamped onto the _jukon-bu_ there is a tiny, _tiny_ string of them almost too fine to make out. The _chukon-bu_ , like with Raph's sais, has been completely redone, and if Mikey pulled off the single layer of leather that separates the hard wood from the air, he would see reams of sigils covering every bare spot.

"Wow, Donnie! What'd ya do?" Raph asks as he looks over his beloved sais with a critical eye. Wisely, he makes no move to pick them up. Raph is no alchemist but he's a fair blacksmith himself, and we've worked side-by-side on weapons-crafting before. He knows that sometimes alchemical processes leave metals hot for hours.

"If you were gonna put weird stuff on there, couldn't you have painted something better like a dragon or a tiger or – Yipes!" Mikey, however, in spite of being warned a hundred times, tries to pick up his nunchaku and gets burned fingers for his trouble.

"You know better," Leo admonishes him. Mikey says something rude, but he's busy cramming most of one hand into his mouth to soothe the burn so it comes out very muffled.

"Here," I take pity on my younger brother and hold out a hand. Mikey's eyes are alight, and I can tell he's mostly faking his pain just to get me to do this. I sigh. So predictable. Still…Mikey does really good pleading help-me-I'm-tiny-and-helpless-and-cute eyes. I give in.

All my primary supplies are in my bag, so I reach to the top shelf for my secondary stash. I pull out a small jar of a white salve and the tiny applicator brush. The salve itself does most of the work to numb the immediate pain, and by painting it on with the right sigils, the injury will heal before the numbness wears off. But the part Mikey likes is the instant of charging the sigils. I breathe a single word over the neat line of marks on his fingertips and the white flashes gold for a moment before fading completely. I'll admit, it does feel neat, like a sudden trickle of ice.

"Thanks bro!" he grins at me.

"So, why the extra trouble, Don?" Leo asks me, examining his swords carefully.

"Well," I meet his eyes before fixing my gaze on the glittering weapons on the table – all polished to within an inch of their lives, because if I'm taking care of the weapons I go all the way and heat hasn't been a problem for me for years – "I just had a feeling we might want a little extra help this time."

Leo understands and his face relaxes a little. Still, there are mountains under less pressure than my brother.

"They gonna be cool any time soon, brainiac?" Raph asks, and I can see his fingers twitching to hold his sais. Patience is distinctly not one of Raph's virtues. I run my hand expertly over the air a finger's width above the blade of the katanas, which I had finished first. Still pretty hot.

I hum as I consider and then, feeling three sets of eyes on me, decide they're just going to stand here staring at me until they can have them back. I crack my knuckles once before I push the palm of my right hand down onto the blade of the nearest katana. There's the momentary searing pain as the heat hits me, but almost as quickly it vanishes as I whisper out a long string of words. At my command, the heat moves up my arm, along my shoulders, and down to my left hand, which I have put on the pot in which I hold my ink. It's a really useful technique, being able to transfer the energy of the fire's heat into the ink that I will use next time, even if it does cause that momentary hurt but no actual damage. It only takes me a few moments to cool each of the weapons enough for the others to touch.

They practically leap on their weapons when I step back, each handling them with care. My workshop is just big enough that all three can spread out a bit and take a few practice swings and jabs. I see Leo nodding to himself and I'm glad I didn't mess with anything but the flat of the blade. Raph raises an eyebrow in my direction – he did notice the weight differential – but it's slight and he smirks as he looks at the sigil that he will probably be stamping onto some foreheads when he reverses the sai to use it in a punch. It means "strength and endurance" and, in Raph's hands, will probably mean a lot more hurt in the blow. Mikey swings the nunchaku cheerfully, and if he's aware that they move faster and more smoothly and silently, but the chains are ten times stronger, he doesn't say anything.

"Thanks bro," Raph tucks the sais away in his belt with an expert flick and then scruffs me on the head.

I'm just shrugging off the scruff when Mikey pops up beside me and says, "What about your bo?"

"What about my bo?" I ask, tipping my head.

"Don't you do any of your magic doohickey stuff on it too?"

Oh. Um. This is a little awkward. I take the bo from its place strapped to my shell and hold it out laterally. Let's see if I can explain this without getting yelled at.

"Every bo I craft gets the same sigils on it," I say, pointing to the four symbols carved directly into the wood. "Strength and endurance. Silence. Protection. Justice." I twirl it and put it away.

"And what does the rest of this mean?" Leo wants to know as he looks at his blades.

I sigh. Typical. "Everything I just said plus a lot of high-level charms and other additions. Luck and prosperity and honor just to name a few. Insurance that the weapon will protect you even at the cost of itself."

"Why don't you have that stuff on your bo?" Now Raph's looking at me. I sigh again.

"The bo is not refined the way your weapons are. Alchemy works better on metals and other tempered or treated materials if you aren't using it on something alive like a person. The wood is too raw, too natural, but also dead. The only alchemical sigils that work on something that close to a pure natural state are those sigils that are the most simple and earth-based. If I could do real, wizard magic, or even if I had learned some higher-order alchemy it would be different, but I can't and I haven't."

"So you're saying because the bo is mostly just a dead tree you can't put as much mojo on it?" Mikey asks. Where on earth did he get a word like "mojo" anyway? I'll never know where he comes up with some of this stuff.

"Basically. I mean, I'm sure there's a way to do it. I've just never taken the time to figure it out." I can see Raph's face starting to resemble a thundercloud. Hoo boy, looks like I've woken the sleepy tiger and he's feeling protective. Great.

But Leo saves me. "I'm glad you do as much as you can," he claps me on the shoulder. "And thank you for going to this extra trouble for the rest of us." He looks at Raph and narrows his eyes. "We should be grateful for the hard work you've done rather than try to belittle it or pass judgment when none of us can really understand what you do."

Ha! That pulled the fight right out of him. Raph huffs and scruffs my head again, rumbling something.

Mikey looks like he's going to say something, but a soft gong ringing outside interrupts him. It's the signal that the Clan is ready to head out and we need to be with them. Leonardo wastes no time, nodding curtly to the three of us before striding out the door, expecting us to follow. Which, of course, we will. Mikey bounces after him, and I pause just long enough to make sure the forge is cool enough to leave without risking a fire and to grab my newly-charged pot of ink to add to my shoulder-bag. But when I look up, Raph is leaning on the door-frame.

"I know ya too well, Donnie," he says. "I know ya skimped on your own protection to make sure you had time for the rest of our stuff instead."

Uh oh. I open my mouth to argue, but Raph shakes his head.

"I get it, bro. Don't worry about it. I'd do the same if I could. But watch your back. Fearless," he grins at his favorite nickname for Leo, "thinks I don't know, but he's no good at hiding when he's worried. Something's up. And you gotta know it too if you did all that extra work. So you make sure that bo of yours is strong enough to protect you the way it should or I'll break it over your head." He leaves.

Oh. Yeah, that could hurt.

-==OOO==-

Because we are traveling to defend the land so far to the south, we're starting out on horseback. My brothers and I always meet long journeys with mixed feelings. On the one hand, turtles are _not_ built to sit on horses. Seriously, even the most carefully-crafted saddle still can't make it a comfortable experience. We're just not shaped or weighted correctly for it. We each have a custom-made saddle, and the horses that carry us are huge, powerful animals that could carry a fully armed samurai, which is good since that's about what we weigh. But it's still not pleasant.

On the other hand, our horses absolutely love us and we're pretty fond of them as well. Horses are intelligent enough to know that we are Animals, and thus closer to them than humans. Most animals are calmer in the hands of Animals like us – we understand each other differently. Humans teach horses to respond to verbal commands or reins or kicks. We communicate with horses in a language of bodies and eye-contact and subtle movements. Our mounts have been ours for years, and we've grown together more than most horse-rider pairs.

Leo's horse is huge and black, and just as proud as his rider. That horse will do anything for Leo as long as it is impressive or skillful, as if the pair of them belong at the head of a parade or an imperial army thousands strong. He's also the oldest of our horses – he was given to Leo when we were about nine on the occasion where Master Splinter formally made Leo his heir. Unfortunately for Leo, though, in a fit of childhood exuberance he named the poor thing Virtues Of Bushido, which, over the years, has degenerated to Bushy. I think Leo has given him a different name that he uses privately now, but since he doesn't want anybody coming up with a new nickname he just lets us call the horse Bushy.

Raph's horse is a dark brown, and probably the fastest horse in the valley. She's fierce and she hates _everybody_ but Raph whom she adores; she only barely tolerates me and Mikey, and I suspect Raph trained her to bite Leo but I can't prove it. Originally her name was Angel, since she was named before anybody knew what a cranky spitfire she was, but now we mostly call her Hothead. I can't imagine why. It's not like she can give Raph a run for his money in that department or anything. Hothead's the only girl of our four, and she mostly keeps the other horses in line. Sometimes I think Hothead tries to be the matron of the herd just to spite Bushy, and it works.

Mikey's horse is also brown, but much lighter in color than Hothead. He's unfortunately named Klunk because Mikey got the idea and decided it before any of us could stop him. Klunk isn't clumsy, in spite of the name, though. He's agile and flexible, and very clever. Of the four, I'm pretty sure Klunk is the smartest, with maybe a touch of Animal blood in him. I swear I've seen him and Mikey laughing together after they pull some stunt, usually scaring Leo half to death. Klunk also gets out of every single paddock or stable or any other enclosure and we've never really figured out how. At this point we just let the guy run free – he always comes to Mikey's whistle.

My horse is a medium grey color, and he's named Professor. He's extremely sweet-tempered, and he's the one most likely to wind up with someone other than me on his back. Hothead won't bear any rider but Raph, Klunk doesn't mind being ridden by humans but insists on bouncing around so much they don't really enjoy the experience, and Bushy glares disdainful murder at anyone he deems unworthy climbing on his back. Professor just doesn't mind that much. Professor is also the largest of the horses, bigger by a hand and a half than Bushy, and it's a good thing too because inevitably he winds up carrying most of my supplies. Professor might be as smart as Klunk but he's content with being a horse, I guess. I think he knows more alchemy than my brothers do, though, just from listening to me babble about it for the last five years.

Master Splinter has a horse, too, black and named Honor, but she is usually stabled with Master Yoshi's stallion. He will ride tonight because of the distance, but more often than not he prefers to walk no matter how far we're traveling. I wish he wouldn't. He's not a young rat anymore, and he already needs a walking stick when he gets tired. But getting Master Splinter to rest himself is like getting Leo to stop worrying – it would be easier to push the moon backwards.

We're saddled up and all our weapons and supplies are loaded when Master Yoshi arrives on his own white charger, resplendent in his new armor. As the only ninja of the Clan and as his special favorites, we have the right not to be down on our knees before him all the time, so we stay mounted and just drop our heads respectfully.

"Good evening, Splinter. Good evening, sons of Splinter," he greets us politely.

"Good evening, Master Yoshi," Master Splinter speaks for us.

"The moon shines brightly tonight," Master Yoshi smiles at us as we lift our eyes. "It shines with the righteousness of our cause and the strength of our blades. We ride tonight not to war, but to the protection of our people."

"We are honored to serve, Master," Splinter smiles a little. Master Splinter has known Master Yoshi since he was a boy and our father was his particular guardian, and I think he loves him with a special kind of loyalty.

"And it is my honor that you stand at my side, Splinter. I am privileged indeed to have five such warriors and their respect." Master Yoshi urges his horse forward and we all move to make way, but he stops.

"Donatello," he says and I suddenly feel like the entire valley is staring at me, "I wish to thank you for your extraordinary work on my armor. In all my days, I have never seen its equal."

I duck my head in what I hope looks like modesty but is really because it's supremely impolite to be grinning like a maniac into one's Lord's face.

"After these lands are again peaceful," he continues, "I wish you to explain to me the work you have done, the meanings of the many sigils, the art of your creation."

I look back up in surprise. "Master?"

"I know little of alchemy myself," Master Yoshi is meeting my eyes with a warmth that gets right inside my skin, "but I know its powers and its uses well enough. If, when you make your explanation to me, I find it is as intricate and advanced as I suspect, we may have other matters to discuss."

"Other matters, Master?" I am curious enough that I forget that I'm being stared at by basically everybody.

"Donatello," his smile widens, "this work suggests that you might be among the most talented and innovative alchemists in any of the surrounding lands. I wish to know the true scope of your abilities because I believe there may be something I can do to help you further and expand your understanding. There are only a handful of truly superb alchemists in the world, and I believe you ought to be numbered amongst them. If your aptitude is what I believe it is, I will sponsor your studies such that you might discover the truth of your gifts, and that you might bring honor to us all."

I can practically feel my brothers' surprise and joy on my behalf, but I can't look at them right now. I mostly want to jump out of Professor's saddle and dance and shout my own joy until the mountains ring with it. To be permitted, encouraged even, to find the limits of what I can do, to learn from other master alchemists, to invent new techniques and expand the understanding of the arts – there is _nothing_ I want more than that. Master Yoshi could pile me with gold and I would trade it and everything I own for this chance he offers me freely.

It takes me a long moment to control the emotions bubbling up behind my plastron, and I have to swallow twice before I can force words through my throat thick with wonder and maybe even tears but hopefully not because I am still a ninja and ninjas don't cry. "I am humbled and honored, Master Yoshi. I thank you for such kindness."

"No, Donatello," he nudges his horse closer still and puts a warm hand on my bare and admittedly trembling shoulder. "It is I who must thank you for the selflessness of your work. It is you who have given me a gift I cannot repay. It is a great pleasure to serve you as you have served me."

Clearly seeing that I am utterly out of words, Master Yoshi releases my shoulder and continues off to address my brothers and then the lines of his soldiers awaiting his orders. I look down at my hands – which are shaking, I note absently – and study them as if I have never seen them before. They are crisscrossed with scars and calluses, the latter from my study of ninjitsu and the former from my mishaps in the forge. But inscribed on each palm is a symbol I carved there many years prior, a powerful sigil that allows me to conduct my alchemy through my hands rather than needing a wand or other tool. I gave myself to the study of alchemy before I was really old enough to know what I was doing, but I cannot be sorry about it.

"Donatello," Splinter's soft, kind voice draws my attention from where I am lost. "My son."

I look up and see that he has come to stand at my knee. He gestures with a hand and I lean down so he can reach my head. He settles a soft, fuzzy palm along my cheek.

"I am very proud of you, Donatello."

"Yeah!" Mikey finally explodes. I can tell he's been bursting but held himself in check until Master Yoshi was mostly out of earshot. "Dude, you're so awesome! Way to go!"

"That's our little brainiac," Raph smiles at me.

"You deserve it," Leo is smiling too. "It's about time the rest of the world found out how special you are."

I'm starting to protest – and getting out from under that much fond attention would be good for my bashful nature before I start blushing – when the sharp sound of metal striking metal interrupts us all. It's the signal that the time has come to move out. Master Splinter leaves my side and deftly climbs astride Honor to lead us. We will be at the head of Master Yoshi's forces for the march, riding as scouts and guards for the rest to come. We always look thoroughly impressive there, too – the dignified rat with his sharp eyes and keen expression flanked by the four of us. We don't wear samurai armor because we don't need it, but we each wear protective pads on our elbows, knees, and wrists, and we have our belts and the sheathes for our weaponry. And our masks. From the day we became ninja, we have each worn a mask. It's a little strange, since we don't really have identities to conceal. Not a lot of giant turtle Animals around, after all. But they set us apart and they do make us more intimidating. Leo has blue, Raph has red, Mikey has orange, and I have purple. To this day, I don't know what the colors mean, but I think Master Yoshi does. I think he might have chosen them for us himself.

The next moments are a blur of getting into position and taking off at speed, and I find myself pushing Professor faster than usual. My brothers and father join me as we ride five across the road into the night, and when it's just us, I let myself grin as though the smile would break me in half.

I thought I had a pretty good life before. Now I can't wait to find out how much more great it will be!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. I begin with a dire warning at the start and we end the first chapter with Donnie optimistic and truly elated. That's gonna change, folks. Just so you know.
> 
> This story was my attempt to write a version of what I've been calling "Donatello and the Beast" as in the classic fairytale. Any similarity to any other telling of "Beauty and the Beast" is entirely the fault of, well, starting from the same base. There's only so many ways to get here, you guys!
> 
> That said, mine came out pretty damn unique, and I'm happy with it. Also, this story is, in many ways, closer to my heart that any other I've written in a long, long time. Partly, writing in first person for one of a very few times in my life made things quite personal. But, in addition, Donatello sort of followed me as I've gone up and down my own struggles in life. I giggled with him when he was silly, and I cried with him when he hurt. There's a lot more of me (and, by extension, several of my friends) in this story than usually happens.
> 
> I'll update every week as always – the whole thing is done with 12 chapters. Hang in there for the ride, and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Lastly, thank you eternally to my friend Montera who helped me make the awesome cover!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which my dire warning in the first chapter comes true.
> 
> Also, from this point on, you're going to see a really obvious stopping point in the middle of virtually every chapter, a place where normally I'd be all "let's leave everybody with a nasty cliffhanger here!" but, for whatever reason, I didn't this time. You can probably blame my beta for that. She thought I'd cause nervous conditions if I left a few of the later chapters off in the middle. So all the chapters of this story are long, very long, with multiple ebbs and flows and highs and lows. I hope it works. If you all decide you hate it and actually WANT the cliffhangers back, I'm sure we can work something out.
> 
> Allow me to reiterate – what Donatello is contemplating is never the answer. He just can't see that. Please be wiser than he if you ever find yourself so lost. Remember – depression always lies.
> 
> Thank you everyone who has given this story such a warm welcome! Anybody who has been a long-time reader of mine will tell you I'm awful at communicating one-on-one with readers, but I definitely recognize your interest and excitement. Thank you for hanging with me. I hope this lives up to your praise!
> 
> Enjoy!

We ride for most of the night and by dawn we've left our valley and passed deep into our neighbor's lands to the south. It's not actually unfamiliar to my brothers and I – we've been here many times as messengers and when a few extra warriors were needed for troublesome bandits on the border. The soldiers attached to this land are good, but sometimes there was a reason to send a friendly force to lend assistance. It certainly helped smooth the trade relations between us. The Lord in these lands is some kind of cousin of Master Yoshi's, and their alliance has always been cordial.

We meet up with the waiting party who will guide us to the rest of the soldiers who have already spread through the forests where the land's borders are in danger. We fall back to ride with the column of Master Yoshi's people, alert to everything going on around us. Even if it's unlikely, there may yet be a trap here and it is our responsibility to make sure no harm comes to any who ride in our wake.

But no, no ambush happens. We meet up with the standing army without incident. While Master Yoshi and Master Splinter and a few other leaders from our Clan join the local commanders, Leo leads us to one side.

"We'll sleep now," he says as he swings down from Bushy. "There will be no attack until later."

"How do you know that?" Raph asks, frowning.

Leo makes a face that Mikey and I call his It's Not Your Fault You're So Stupid Because Only Great Leaders Know Things Like This Face. It is almost always certain to irritate Raph, so we have gotten used to ducking when the fire starts to fly afterwards. What he says, though, is, "I just do."

"If it's bedtime," Mikey jumps in before Raph can say anything, "I totally claim this spot!" He doesn't even dismount from Klunk – the horse just bounds with Mikey's enthusiasm to a mossy depression under a tree and, with Mikey still perched on his back, settles to the ground. Mikey tips off sideways and winds up sprawled with Klunk as a very large, horsey pillow.

I dismount too, and pull one of my bags off of Professor. The other, and the saddle, I leave affixed. We're in dangerous territory now, and everything has to be ready for a fight or to flee every moment. Accordingly, I pull out a long line of a metal cord from my bag and begin winding it around the trees on the perimeter of the spot we've chosen. The cord is stout and dark and littered with sharp spikes, so it will catch someone sneaking up or charging up on horseback with a very painful surprise, but more importantly it's been given its own alchemical purpose: for as long as the cord's final link is joined, any within its circumference will be harder to see or hear from the outside. And it does another neat trick too, but only when we really need it.

Raph always says it's a cheat to the first two rules of ninjitsu – the Way of Invisibility and the Way of Silence – but I figure, with my two older brothers starting to bicker loud enough to be heard back home, we could use the cheat.

That done, I poke Mikey in the foot until he sighs and joins me in setting up a basic camp. There's nothing we lay out that we couldn't leave behind without a moment's hesitation, but we still take the time to dig a good fire pit and put some simple provisions around it. When it gets later into the day we'll build a fire and probably cook something, but for now we just want the quickest food in case anyone needs it. Mikey, of course, tears into it at once.

As for me, I'm more than a little exhausted, and not just from riding all night. All the work on the weapons, not to mention the intense concentration in finishing up Master Yoshi's armor, has caught up to me. I see that Professor has also made himself comfortable in the undergrowth and I curl up next to him. Nothing warmer than a giant horse to keep a turtle cozy during a nap, after all. The sight of Raph doing the same makes me smile a little – Hothead does _not_ like being a pillow, so he's stuck just tucking his feet under her. Mikey finishes snacking and settles back against Klunk, flinging himself over his horse like a puppy across the hearth.

The only one not heading to sleep is Leonardo, who perches at the southernmost point of my perimeter. Leo lives on the harshest edge of the world with his hands out. One he uses to push back the rawness and keep it away, and the other guards us from it, making himself the margin between us and anything that might come to us. It's an exhausting thing he does, every day driving away the worst parts of life so that they can never touch us. And even though we're all grown turtles and more than capable of protecting ourselves, we're never safer than when he is standing there. The worst danger has never frightened me, not with my oldest brother to face it beside me. It's a burden I sometimes wish he could let go, but he can't. He loves us too much to ever let his guard down. So Leo won't sleep until that inner sense of his tells him we're all safe.

-==OOO==-

I sleep until Master Splinter joins us with our orders. I wake all at once – we all can shift from completely asleep to awake and ready to fight in less than a single heartbeat – and find that I'm the only one not up yet. Leo is in the same position he was when I fell asleep, and I know him well enough to know he didn't sleep at all. Mikey is poking some hot coals and getting ready to serve up some real food, and Raph is a few paces away, practicing with his sais again. I roll over to pull my arm out from under Professor and rise to join them.

Master Splinter smiles at me indulgently and I bow as an apology for not being awake to greet him. I grab something from Mikey to eat while I take my place beside him. Raph joins us a moment later and only then does Leo rise from his self-appointed sentry duty to sit on my other side.

"My sons," Splinter says, "the battle we face will be treacherous indeed. You know that our opponent is a warlord from afar who seeks to conquer all lands, including this one and our own. We must stop him here or we will have him at our feet in the valley."

Mikey takes an obnoxious bite of his food to punctuate Splinter's words, and Raph elbows him as our sensei glares. Ha ha, Mikey. The distraction is enough for me to sneak a much quieter bite myself.

"Our honorable allies have already engaged with this dark threat once before," our sensei continues as if he didn't have two rude sons, though only one got caught, "and they speak with fear of the commander of those forces. Apparently the Lord Oroku Saki has a general amongst his people that is simply known as 'the Shredder' and he is unlike any they have faced before."

"Master," Leo speaks up, and Mikey and I both sneak another bite when our father's face is turned. I spot Raph stuffing his face too and wink at him.

"Yes, my son?"

"What makes this Shredder so different?"

"He appears to be a student of our own arts of ninjitsu, but twisted to evil. He fights with no honor and he shows neither mercy nor refinement. And he does not lead his men as one might expect."

"How so?"

Score another bite for me! Raph manages it too, but Mikey took too much last time and is trying not to cough.

"He does not remain with his forces. Instead, he charges into the opposing lines to eliminate the commanders and samurai, leaving the common soldiers to his own men. He kills non-combatants on his way through the lines and gives no opportunity for surrender with lives spared. Our honorable ally believes the Shredder will target himself and Master Yoshi in their next battle."

That takes all the silliness out of the three of us and we freeze. When Raph speaks, his voice is cold and angry. "What's the plan?"

"We must split our forces. Our Master Yoshi has agreed to remain away from the front line of the battle for his own safety, but that may not protect him from the Shredder. He will need to be guarded. But we cannot all remain behind, though I know we might wish it," his face softens a little. Master Splinter can see that the four of us are pretty eager to see our Lord safe, even more than we want to prove ourselves in battle and put a stop to our dishonorable opponents.

"Master?" Leo asks after a moment. "How are we going to stop Lord Oroku Saki?"

"We must force his surrender. We must show him that he cannot take our lands without losing face and life."

"Then." Leo's thinking, and I can see the ideas as they run across his forehead. I know what he's going to say even before he does it – it's the logical arrangement. "Raphael and Michelangelo and I will go ahead when the battle begins and take him hostage. Then his forces will stand down and we will force him to surrender and retreat. Donatello, you stay behind with Master Splinter to defend Master Yoshi."

Master Splinter smiles fondly, and I can practically feel Raph wanting to roll his eyes. Yes, Raph, I know. It's a plan so simple an unhatched turtle could have come up with it, and yes, you're irritated that our father is proud of Leo for it. Whatever. At least it's rational. If Raph were doing the planning, we'd be charging in without any sort of plan at all beyond the vague intent to bash some heads.

"How soon will the fight begin?" Leo asks.

"Lord Saki's men are forming up now and will begin their charge before midday," Splinter answers. "We have little time."

"Master Splinter," I speak up as an idea comes to me. "May I propose that Master Yoshi should remain behind my defenses? Here? It will make him that much harder for the Shredder to find."

"I have already suggested as much myself, my son," Splinter smiles at me, "but our Lord has decided he will not hide 'like a rabbit' in his words. He will allow himself to be protected, but he wishes to remain in the open to encourage and embolden his men. The Shredder is formidable, and it is possible none of our other warriors will be able to match him."

"Then shouldn't we stay behind too?" Mikey asks.

"Master Yoshi's priority is not his own safety, but the safety of this land. He wishes you put a stop to Lord Saki's assault first and foremost."

The others start winding up into an argument, but I tune it out and focus on my thoughts (and on cramming some much-needed fuel into my mouth). Master Yoshi has spoken and even our father won't go against him in things like this. It's really upsetting my brothers that he's so blasé about his own safety like this. But then I realize that my brothers are deliberately winding themselves up so they will be even more furious and protective, and thus more dangerous in a fight, so I stop worrying. Instead, I simply leave them to their arguing while I begin pulling down the protective cord. Just because Master Yoshi doesn't want to hide _here_ out of the way doesn't mean I can't still throw the thing around wherever he _does_ choose to stand, after all.

We pack up quickly after that. The horses are driven off a ways – they'll come when called and otherwise they'll just be in more danger if they stay nearby. Even a master ninja can't sneak in broad daylight while riding an enormous steed. I inspect the area where Master Yoshi will be during the battle, the crest of the tall hill that overlooks the fields below, and quietly set out my protective cord, as well as inscribing a few sigils into the very ground around the perimeter. I do it a little sneakily, I have to confess, because I know it goes against what Master Yoshi said he wanted done. But he didn't _exactly_ order me, and Master Splinter didn't really prevent me so…yeah. If I'm going to be protecting our Master, I'm going to use all the tools I have.

I return to my brothers just as the first noises of battle start to creep up the hill – from here we can see the crash of the armies as they meet on a field a ways below. Master Splinter wishes my brothers good fortune and strength and returns to Master Yoshi's side, leaving me a few moments alone with them.

"Take care of 'im, Donnie," Raph says. "Watch your shell."

"I will. I promise." My eyes find Leo and I frown at him. "It's you guys I'm more worried about."

"Oh, we got this. If this Saki dude were half as good as Master Yoshi he'd be out on the battlefield himself," Mikey shrugs at me. "He's probably just sitting on a pillow somewhere in the back and we'll get him with no problems."

"You're not upset we're leaving you behind, are you?" Leo asks suddenly. I shake my head.

"No, not really. I'd rather be with you," I say truthfully, "but I know I'm the best choice to stay behind." I don't say anything about how I'm the worst fighter of the four of us. I am, of course, and that's probably part of it, but the real point is that I can protect Master Yoshi with something other than just my fists and bo, and the others can't. I'd probably slow them down without adding much anyway.

Leo gives me a look like he's read all those thoughts without my voicing them and I give him a mild glare. He knows I hate when he does that.

"Well, let's go find our pillow-sitting Lord," Raph slings an arm around Mikey and yanks. "The fighting sounds like it's going pretty good, so you ought to get up there," and he gestures to Master Yoshi's position with the arm not strangling our youngest brother. He starts off, immediately turning it into a race to the bottom of the steep hill with Mikey.

I look at Leo intently. He tips his head at me. Come on, Leo. You're smarter than that.

"No," he finally answers my unspoken question. "I don't know more than I did before. But I have that bad feeling again."

I know what he means. I've got it too, a crawling wariness somewhere in my stomach. It seems to be a holdover from our Animal instincts, the way the birds just know when to hide out from a storm. I look past Leo's shoulder to where Raph and Mikey are striding along.

"Protect them, Leo," I say, that feeling making my voice tight. "I won't be there to fix it if something goes wrong."

"I know," he nods. "But I need you here. I trust you here. Take care of our Masters, Don."

I watch him go and that bad feeling gets worse. But there's nothing for it – I have my orders and my place. I have to trust my brothers to be okay. I'm worried they'll run into the Shredder and try to take him on themselves. It sounds like something Raph would do. But Leo will watch over them like he always does. I have to do my part in return.

I head up to the small canvas tent that is the place from which Master Yoshi watches the battle. It's just a roof – no canvas walls – and he's flanked on either side by me and Master Splinter. There's also a set of his personal guards surrounding us farther down the hill. If it weren't for the sound of the battle below, it would be easy to just stare up at the bright blue sky and the lazy clouds and forget everything.

But I don't let myself become complacent as the day slowly crawls by. Even so, I could have taken a nap because the sudden crash of metal just below us would have woken me even out of a deep sleep.

"The Shredder!" shouts one of the guards.

Well, I'll say! I've never seen samurai armor like that before! It's all grey and metal – very little leather in evidence, and few of the traditionally rich colors. Along the shoulders and arms are wicked-looking metal spikes. He also wears a gauntlet that looks like it could tear a tree in half with one swipe. His eyes are nothing more than shadows behind the full mask, but I can feel their fire from here.

"Master Yoshi, please stand back!" Splinter commands, and he and I step up to the very edge of the tent.

The Shredder just rips through the guards between us and him, and it's brutal and sickening the casual way he kills them even when he could merely defeat or maim them and let them live. I feel a growl low in my chest, and I imagine it sounds a lot like Raph's; my angriest brother would be livid at this display of honor-less carnage. Master Splinter beside me is vibrating with his own rage.

And then the Shredder charges up the hill and it's down to just my father and I alone between him and Master Yoshi.

Master Splinter knows me very well, so he doesn't even move a whisker when the Shredder crosses my line. I'm already in motion, slamming my bo down to where the arc of my cord curved inwards towards me. When my bo hits the metal and I give the word, the metal cord leaps up from the ground as though a living snake. The nearer length surges up around the Shredder's shins while the rest of it tips up over the canvas pavilion and begins to wrap around him.

Once the cord is concentrated around the Shredder, only then do Master Splinter and I charge in, being careful to stay clear of the metal's flashing spikes. I can see that the Shredder is trying to cut it apart, but it's been given a great deal of strength and will take more than one swipe before it breaks.

Master Splinter reaches him first and dodges one coil of the cord while slamming his sharpened and reinforced walking-stick into the Shredder's mask hoping to blind him. I pop up a step behind and sweep with the bo to take out our opponent's knees. Somehow the Shredder evades me in spite of the tangling metal cord and blocks Splinter's blow. He lets out an angry cry and slices downward, finally splitting my cord in two and breaking its power. But it has bought us time and I can see where the thorns have bit deeply into the gaps of the Shredder's armor.

Unencumbered, the Shredder lashes out at me, which I dodge easily to one side. Then I'm back, finding my place just behind and to the left of my father. From here, I can attack with my long bo and guard his off side while he strikes hard and low and shields my legs. The Shredder is an outstanding warrior, probably the best I have ever seen in all my life.

And, I realize as I see him swipe along Master Splinter's ear and take a piece off with the blood to show for it, the Shredder is better than both of us.

My father realizes it at the same time I do, I can tell by the sharp intake of breath, and then he abandons our formation to throw himself more completely on our opponent.

"Protect our Master!" he shouts at me without a backwards glance.

I turn to where I can see Master Yoshi braced for battle, but his eyes are all for myself and Master Splinter. I whistle sharply, the cry to which our Lord's own horse has been trained to respond. The stallion whinnies from not far behind us and I know he will arrive in moments.

"Go, Master!" I shout as I settle myself between where Master Splinter is fully engaging the Shredder and Lord Yoshi. "We will ensure you escape!"

But the next moment all I can do is stare at where the Shredder has thrown Master Splinter away like a discarded towel, and to my horror, my father does not rise when he lands. I can see blood staining Master Splinter's brown robes.

"NO!" I scream. The world gets blurry for a moment, which is how I fail to notice that I am no longer standing alone. Master Yoshi has charged to my side, his own sword drawn. He gives a cry of anger and pain and launches himself against the Shredder directly.

I realize I'm not moving.

Reality hits me like a punch and I start running. Not for Master Yoshi, which some tiny part of my brain thinks I ought to be doing, but instead to drop to my knees before my father, my heart in my throat. I don't have time to hesitate in revulsion or fear. I turn him over to see if he is still alive.

He's breathing. Oh, thank all the ancestors.

From a pouch I keep on my belt I produce a bandage worked with sigils. It's my most powerful healing artifact, and I've never before needed it like I do now. I pull on Master Splinter's robes to see that the Shredder has sliced a long wound down his torso and punctured the flesh at his hip. Master Splinter, like my brothers and I, doesn't wear any kind of armor, so there was nothing to save him.

I wrap the bandage as tightly and carefully as I can, whispering words of power over it with such fervor I can almost see the sigils glowing as they react to my will. When the bandage is tied off, the whole thing gets warm to the touch and begins its work. I can only pray it is enough.

Another cry reminds me that I am not alone on a hill with my father and his lifeblood, and I jerk my head around to see Master Yoshi's sword break in his hand. _No!_

I am up and running again, my bo out. The Shredder's gauntlet is coming down with the force of a lightning strike. Master Yoshi is on one knee and defenseless, his helmet lost somehow. I reach…

My bo catches the gauntlet in midair before the fatal strike can land.

And then there is a terrible tremble that I barely register before the blade on the gauntlet shatters my bo and continues downward.

I've never seen so much blood...

I'm cold and numb and nothing makes any sense and somewhere far away there is a growing feeling that hurts more than I ever thought I could hurt, but none of that really registers in my mind. All I can see is the droplets of blood coursing down the wicked bladed points of the gauntlet. Father's blood. Master Yoshi's blood. The points are moving again and I can only watch them as they swing in my direction.

There is a sharp burning, and then nothing.

-==OOO==-

Jumbled sensations.

Ow.

Fear.

Confusion.

Ow again.

Panic.

More ow.

The 'ows' become more distinct, then impossible to ignore. There is fire on my front, on my side, and down an arm. Make it stop. Oh please make it stop. I bang my head and realize I'm thrashing, trying to escape the pain that is _everywhere_.

I also realize I'm screaming. I remember how to hear.

"-onnie! Stop it!"

"Leo, quick!"

"Hang on, Don!"

Something is dribbled into my mouth and I cough as I try to swallow and scream at the same time. It tastes odd and familiar, but most of my awareness is of unrelenting agony. And then everything starts to get blurry and funny again, and the pain doesn't seem to matter anymore. It's still there, but it's like I'm imagining it. Maybe I am.

"Sleep, Don."

Good idea, Leo.

-==OOO==-

Time passes really strangely for a while. I float and forget everything, and then sometimes I remember things that can't possibly be real, but always there's a comforting touch on my head or holding my hand and I slide away before I can make sense of it all. Eventually I surface enough to realize that I've been grievously injured and that my brothers are taking care of me. But it's another long bout of floating in and out of awareness before I finally open my eyes and can take in my surroundings.

Oh. Maybe that's why I've been so confused. I have no idea where we are.

I know our valley as well as I know my own workshop, and the mountains immediately around it are familiar, too. But what meets my eyes is definitely not any place I know. The land is rocky, and the wind feels cold. I tip my head and realize I'm looking out over a completely unknown mountain range.

I'm also lying on something. I wiggle a bit and decide it's a litter made for dragging behind a horse, now propped on something so I can rest at an angle and not have to be lying flat on my shell. The shape is unmistakable. If I had to guess, I'd say it was made out of saplings or else really long, stout tree branches. And from the look of it, it's seen some really heavy use.

"Don?" Leo's voice is soft, and he approaches from somewhere to my left.

"L…Leo?" I manage, realizing that my throat feels awfully dry.

"Hang on, little brother," he moves to my side and swiftly lifts a waterskin to my mouth. "Take it slowly." I roll my eyes. Of _course_ , Leo! I'm the one who taught you about how easy it is for someone who is injured or who has been unconscious for a while to take in fluids or food too quickly.

My eye-roll actually makes him smile. "So are you back with us for real this time?" I frown. Before I can ask, he explains, "You've been out of it so much, we couldn't always tell when you were coherent."

"How long have I been out?" I ask. "And where are we?"

"Four weeks." Raph steps up to the other side of the litter. His arms are crossed and he's looking down at me with an expression I can't read. "Four _long_ weeks."

"Four weeks!" I'd screech if I could. Instead I gasp. Four weeks since…

I bolt upright, which causes a tearing, rending hot pain to flash through what seems like my whole body.

"Don't do that!" Mikey presses me back against the litter, already checking my bandages with gentleness. "Awake doesn't mean you get to go dancing just yet, bro."

Dancing? Really, Mikey?

But I take a few deep breaths while the flaring pain subsides. I realize most of my torso has been wrapped in layers and layers of bandages, and also a good portion of my left arm. But I'll worry about that later. As soon as I have control, not to mention breath, back, I pin the three of them with a look.

"What happened?" They exchange glances. Oh, no. Don't you dare, you guys. Do _not_ think you'll get away with not telling me.

Leo seems to read my thoughts as usual and sighs. "What do you remember?"

I blink my eyes hard and will them to stay dry as fear fills me up. "Too much."

"We went after Lord Saki. But we couldn't find him," Leo says.

"And then Fearless got a really, _really_ bad feeling," Raph picks up the telling as Leo trails off. "We abandoned the mission and came running back. And we saw…"

"We watched the Shredder almost tear you in half," Mikey's voice is uneven and too soft. His hands, still spread over my plastron's bandages, twitch. "We saw you go down."

"We charged him," Leo seems to have collected himself. "He didn't expect us and fell back into his own lines. We were going to go after him but when we realized…"

"That Master Yoshi was dead." My voice slaps the silence harshly. "That I had failed." I long to ask a question, but I can't bear to hear the answer.

"The hill was all blood," Raph says, and there is a shudder of disgust and fear in his voice – he looks away so I won't see it in his eyes. "Yours and Master Yoshi's and Master Splinter's. We couldn't go after him with that."

"Master Splinter is alive," Mikey says, and he smiles shakily at me. "That magic scarf or whatever of yours saved him. He's still healing too, and he's asleep now, but he's alive."

A tear sneaks out of me in relief. And yet there is a new pain growing in the back of my heart.

"When we knew there was nothing we could do for Master Yoshi, and when we saw that you'd already taken care of Master Splinter, we tried to stabilize you before going after the Shredder," Leo picks up the story again, his voice a little stronger. "We'd just gotten you bandaged up as best we could when…"

"What?" I look around in growing concern as they all look at one another. "What happened? Tell me!"

"The Shredder came back to the hill, shouting. We couldn't make all of it out, but he called a blood feud on us, on our whole family. He swore to burn Master Yoshi's valley to the ground if we ever returned to it. He swore to destroy everything we held dear if we did not make it stop."

"Still dunno what that meant," Raph huffs.

"We didn't have a choice," Leo's voice is still and sad. "You were down and needed more help, Master Splinter was vulnerable, and the battle was already falling apart. We had to flee. The horses came and we got you and Master Splinter and Master Yoshi's body up onto them and we fled. The Shredder was out of his mind, or at least he wasn't rational. He actually left the battle to follow after us, screaming for revenge against us. We had to lead him away from the innocent people in his path."

"We skirted our valley and came north," Mikey says. "We figured as long as the Shredder was chasing us he wouldn't be murdering everybody else. He followed us for a whole week before we lost track of him. But…" he swallows and looks at me sadly. "But we can't go home."

"Our forces collapsed," Raph smacks his palm with his fist, his habitual anger rising at last. "Oroku Saki's army took over everything in the south and in our valley. We snuck close enough to find out that they;d put a bounty on our heads, that they would kill us on sight if we dared go back. Which didn't stop us, of course." He smirks.

"Raph and I returned to the valley one last time," Leo explains.

"Why?" My head is spinning. Banished from our home? A blood feud from that monstrous Shredder? On top of losing Master Yoshi? I'm not sure my heart is keeping up with the worse and worse developments.

"We couldn't help Master Yoshi's people," Leo says with real pain, and I am right there with him on that. "But we at least owed them the true story of what happened. We snuck back in long enough to tell those who should know that Master Yoshi had fallen in battle with honor and that you and Master Splinter nearly died protecting him. Then we collected everything we thought we might need, everything that mattered."

"Feels like we packed up half of your workshop, braniac," Raph smiles a little now. "Not just 'cause we wanted you to have it, but 'cause we _don't_ want nobody else to have it."

"And we've been heading north ever since," Leo finishes. "I figure we'll go far enough away that the Shredder won't find us and hide out until both you and Master Splinter are well again. Then we can decide what comes next."

Oh. Oh no. There's that sinking feeling again. They don't know. They don't realize.

Something must be reflected on my face because Leo's eyes narrow. "Don?"

"What did happen with the Shredder?" Raph scoots a little closer. "Whatever went on up on that hill really pissed him off bad. He hates us now, which is fine with me 'cause I'd love a good shot at him for what he did," he growls menacingly. "But it'd be nice to know why."

"It wasn't something I did, not exactly," I manage. "It was…" I gulp against renewed grief. "When he killed Master Yoshi while our Lord was wearing the armor I forged for him, it activated a last alchemical power I had put into it."

"You didn't tell us you'd put a curse on Master Yoshi's armor," Leo says, quietly knowingly.

No, I did not. I didn't tell anybody because I didn't want it to ever be needed, but you better believe I put something in that armor to avenge our Lord if it failed him. I always figured, though, that if vengeance was ever needed it would be because I was already dead. I never thought I'd have to explain it or live with the consequences. I'm not really sure I can do one, and the other...

"What did you _do_ to him?" Mikey asks, eyes wide.

"Um," I rub my beak with my good hand, my stomach roiling with what I'm about to describe. "Well, I…it was just in case…I didn't realize…"

"Don," Raph's voice is sharp and I wince. "Tell us, then be sorry. Though I dunno why you're acting like you're ashamed of what you did. Anything you could do to that bastard is too good for him."

"Not true. Not true at all," I say softly, closing my eyes. "It wasn't a curse, not exactly. That would be sorcery and you know I can't do that. But alchemy allows for an equal and opposite reaction, so I just…built a reaction into Master Yoshi's armor."

"What kind of reaction?" Leo asks gently. I suspect he's starting to realize why I'm so upset.

"Suffering," I answer sadly. "The man who killed Master Yoshi would be afflicted with an unending cycle of pain. It would have started with all the pain of the killing strike rebounded upon the Shredder, so he'd feel as if whatever he had done happened to him. But then…the pain will change."

"Change how?" Raph leans closer.

"All the power will leave my suit of armor, all the months of work and the energy and the sigils and everything, almost a year and a half of my life and all my skills, to plague him further. He will never be able to remove his own armor – the fires that forged the metal of Master Yoshi's suit will sear his own armor to his very body. And because the death was dishonorable, the Shredder will soon experience a suffering beyond what he ever inflicted. For his act of dishonor, he will develop a sensation in his abdomen that will grow and grow, a slicing sensation that will never cease and only increase."

" _Seppuku_ ," Leo breathes in terrible understanding. "Your curse will cause him to experience _seppuku_ even while he still lives?"

"For as long as he lives," I nod slowly. "It will drive him mad, probably. But he won't be able to commit an honorable _seppuku_ himself to escape it – any touch to his stomach will increase the pain tenfold. He'll have to end his own life with his dishonor still intact."

"Donnie," Mikey looks kind of sick to his stomach and I feel even worse, "how could you do something so horrible?"

"The Shredder deserves it," Raph says angrily, but he looks pale too. Thanks for backing me up, Raph, but I know what this means and so do you. The codes of honor are unrelenting on this point.

"Not horrible to the Shredder," Mikey shakes his head and goes even paler. "Horrible for _Donnie_."

"My own honor is broken," I say with more resignation in my voice than I really feel. "What I have done to an opponent is unforgivable. I have disgraced us all and there is only one absolution possible. We all know what that means for me." I feel cold and empty inside. I wonder if I'll cry when…

" _Don't you even think about it_!"

That's Leo, and I'm so surprised I don't even move when he flies forward from his kneeling position and grips my head between his hands which are hot and shaking. I meet his eyes in confusion. Of course I'm thinking about it! Leo, you know that –

"You will _not_ be cast out and you will _not_ commit _seppuku_ yourself, Donatello! _Do you hear me_?!"

I've _never_ seen my oldest brother this incensed before. I can't even seem to breathe, let alone think.

"I don't care _what_ you did! You are our brother and if you even _think_ about it, I'll be lying right beside you! I swear it on my honor, Hamato Donatello, that if you so much as lift a hand to yourself over this I will inflict whatever you do upon myself as well."

"Leo, no!" I manage to shove words out of my throat. "I…I have lost all my honor. I failed Master Splinter and Master Yoshi. Our father may still die and our Lord has died and it is all _my_ fault! And now I have done unspeakable things to our enemy! Death is my only recourse to pay for what I've done and make it right for the rest of you!"

"No way in shell, Don." Raph somehow manages to crowd into Leo's space and oh boy he looks mad. "We already lost Master Yoshi. We might lose our father. We will _not_ lose you too!"

"So find a way to live with yourself, Donnie." Mikey's voice is quiet, and I can't see around the heads of my two older brothers but I can tell he's crying a little. "Find a way to live with yourself because you're staying with us _no matter what_."

"My son."

Everybody freezes and Leo and Raph turn from me enough that I can see between their shoulders. Master Splinter is sitting up on his own litter not far from mine. He has a hand pressed to his side and his eyes are tight with pain.

My body moves without my consciously thinking about it. Somehow I catch Leo and Raph off-guard and push past them. My wounds start weeping blood as I move roughly out of my makeshift bed, but I don't care. I drop to my knees before my father and press my face into the cold ground.

"I have failed, Master," I manage to bite out. Death _can't_ be more painful than that admission.

"Donnie!" Raph closes a hand on my shoulder and tries to jerk me out of the dirt.

"Raphael, do not force him. Donatello, face me."

I tip my head up, but I don't move out of the bow. I haven't even enough right to do this, but even now I cannot disobey that voice.

"My son," and his eyes are harsh points of light in his face, "my heart aches for the loss of my Master as does yours. And were you nothing to me but a warrior I had trained, I might demand your sacrifice to atone for this pain. Banishment would be the least of my punishments."

I hear Raph suck in a breath as if he's scared and his hand on my shoulder tightens. I don't think so, Raph. You can't be more scared than me.

"But you are my son." My father reaches forward and places a hand on the crown of my head. I can't help it – I duck back down so I don't have to see his face. I failed him, I cost him his beloved Master Yoshi, I have done the unthinkable. Oh, sensei, please just let me die. Please just let this shame and pain end for us all.

"If we are all that remains of the Hamato Clan, then so be it. I would rather our family survive and live without honor than lose one of my sons."

Raph lets out a long whoosh of breath. He's relieved. I'm not. He was afraid Splinter would order my death – I was afraid he _wouldn't_.

Why am I always right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Honest question. When I put up the first chapter, I announced it in the LJ community for TMNT fanfic. I haven't done it since. Should I? Or would that just be annoying. I'm hedging towards "annoying" but if you think it would be valuable, I can go ahead and send it to LJ as well!
> 
> Is there anywhere else I should be putting up notes saying "O hai I haz chapter up nows!" out there? Except maybe with, you know, grammar?
> 
> On a more serious note, just let me say that what you feel is what you feel, but, as Wil Wheaton wonderfully says in his blog, "Depression lies." What Donnie is going through is REAL. But that still doesn't mean death is the answer. For all he's a genius, he's a little dumb about what does matter. Leo's going to try to work on that this time around.
> 
> I love all of your support and interest. You guys are the best. Seriously.
> 
> Enjoy!

For the next few days, I am basically inconsolable. After Master Splinter's pronouncement, my brothers put me back into the litter that has carried me so far. Thankfully, they leave me alone for a while, only disturbing my silence when they want to check my wounds or offer me some kind of food which I refuse, all but some water. The thought of eating anything turns my stomach in guilt and shame.

But I'm not so belligerent as to return the kind treatment they show me with unkindness, so I permit them to inspect me and change my bandages as they wish. The first time, I don't really look and there's not much to see in the dimness of only a small fire at night. But the next morning with the clear brightness of daylight I find myself staring down at my plastron in horror.

When Mikey said the Shredder had almost cut me in half, he wasn't really exaggerating that much. Honestly, looking at the wreck of my body, I have no idea how I'm still alive. There's a massive arc of rent flesh and shell that stretches from just below my throat, through the first few sections of my plastron, then down around my vulnerable side before slicing over onto my arm from my elbow to nearly my wrist. The Shredder's bladed gauntlet appears to have actually cut my plastron all the way through, and for one horrible moment I catch sight of something that might be my own lung pulsing. But no, no, there's a wall of muscle first. Still.

As I survey the damage, a part of myself feels quite smug. It's sort of just, isn't it? I cast the pain of _seppuku_ on an enemy, and he retaliated by nearly returning it to me, although the cut is more vertical and higher up than the proper disemboweling slice.

Ew. Justified, maybe. Dark and depressive – definitely. But also ew.

When my brothers figure out that I'm not going to go anywhere any time soon, which has less to do with my abysmal concern for myself and more to do with the sheer weakness of blood loss and injury, they resume our journey. No surprise, I'm tethered to Professor, who, in addition to dragging my weight, is piled with bags and sacks. It's Bushy who pulls Master Splinter's litter, while Honor and Master Yoshi's horse are loaded with other belongings. My brothers ride in silence, and I soon find that watching the sky pass overhead is easier than doing anything else.

I can't seem to make thoughts work. Whenever I start thinking, I fill up with pain. So I let myself fall into a sort of hazy daze. Some absent part of my common sense thinks I might be in shock, emotional shock, and that might be worth worrying about, but I don't want to worry about myself right now. By every rule of the samurai, by the ways of Bushido, I should be dead – I deserve to be dead. I'm not sure why I'm not.

One night, I can't stand the anxious silence of my brothers setting up camp anymore. I can move around a little now, so when Raph looks over at me, gulps, and looks away, I snarl wordlessly. Come on, Donnie. Your legs still work. There! I am standing – more or less – and I try to stalk off into the trees for some peace. It's more wobbling that stalking, but who cares? I'm away.

I could run. I could pitch myself off a nearby cliff. I could hang myself by my own belt.

"You could, but you'd never manage it."

Leo! Gah! Warn a turtle! I think I jumped three feet in the air and my plastron aches now – thanks a lot. I look around to where he's followed me away from the warm firelight into the thin coniferous trees. I scowl at him.

"Leave me alone."

"No." Leo steps to my side, then starts walking. "You can get away from the others if you want, but you're stuck with me."

Ugh. Now I either have to follow him or head back to camp. I could try to go sideways, but he'll just circle back. I grumble and catch up to him. I realize I'm breathing awkwardly after only a few steps, but Leo slows down to a pace I can manage. We walk in silence for a while. Until a little after I feel like my chest will explode, actually. Then I sit down on a fallen log and, no surprise, Leo sits beside me.

"Nice night," he comments idly.

"Shove it, Leo."

He actually smiles at me!

"That was supposed to be insulting. Did you hit your head while I was out?" I glare at him.

"No. But it's good to hear you say something and mean it."

I can feel my tongue freeze to roof of my mouth as I stare at him. What?

"I can't imagine what you're going through," Leo says, and he turns away from me to stare out into the dark. "I don't know how you can sleep when you are so haunted. I can see it in your face. If it were me, if I were trying to live with the memory of Master Yoshi's death, with the knowledge that I had committed a terrible crime, even against an admittedly terrible person, I don't know how I would cope."

"You would," I say, and there's nothing but shame in my voice. "You always do."

"Because I've got you, Donnie. Because I've got our family. It's so much easier to live for you and Raph and Mikey and Master Splinter than to live for myself. But that's where we're different."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I let you guys fill up my heart and my purpose. I let my whole life become one long, dutiful series of works and accomplishments, all to make me a better leader and brother and son. My life isn't my own – it hasn't been since I was nine. But you, Don. Your life has always been about what you could seek and learn and find with that incredible brain of yours."

I'm not sure if I should be offended. Leo laughs.

"I'm not calling you selfish, Donnie. Everything you learn, you give back to the family, too. But you keep your purpose in your heart to yourself. And that's why I think this is so much worse for you."

"I don't understand you, Leo," I say, and there's anger rising in my chest and I don't care. "You have lectured us twice a day on average since we were babies about honor and the way of Bushido and being beholden to certain rules. And now, when I break those rules and deserve the ultimate consequences, you don't care. I would believe Mikey and Raph turning a blind eye to what I did, but not you. Maybe even Master Splinter. But not you."

"Don." Leo looks at me and in the pale light of the stars I can see that his expression is stricken. "Do you really think I love Bushido more than I do you?"

I duck my head. I can't stand to look at him, but I mutter, "I wish you did."

"Well, I don't."

An arm comes up and grips my shoulder, pulling me to his side. Leo's still a bit taller than me, so he can reach all the way around my shell for a half-hug. He's careful of my injuries, but he settles me against him until I'm practically wedged there. I'm not sure why I let him do it.

"Samurai are a lot stricter about their honor than ninja, you know. We are assassins, after all, so we have to have some room to break the rules," he says reasonably. "But even if it weren't for that, I'd still want you alive. You're my _brother_ , Don. Even if you don't want to be."

I twist my head but I can't quite get to his eyes from this position. "Don't want to be?"

"I know you want to die, Donatello." His voice is very soft and serene but also sad. "I know you're barely holding yourself together inside, not to mention this," and he rubs a hand gently over my bandages. "I know you resent us all for keeping you alive when you wanted to die."

"I'm still your brother." But there's something harsh and tight in my throat.

"Not if you're dead. If you give up, you'll leave us. We'd remember you, and honor you, and we'd pray to you as an ancestor. But you'd never just be our brother again. And that's what we don't want to lose."

"You'd honor me?" There are tears in my eyes at that, and I feel a sudden infusion of something that is both warm and harsh at the same time.

"Donatello." Still can't see Leo's face, but I know that voice – he's looking at me like I'm a moron, and maybe I am. "You saved our father's life with your alchemy. None of us could have done that. And you tried to save Master Yoshi. Look at how you paid for that act of courage. Of _course_ we would honor you."

"I didn't get this in his stead," I point out. "This happened after I failed. My bo broke, Leo. Raph was right. I didn't make it strong enough and it broke and Master Yoshi died under it."

Oh, ancestors, I thought ninja don't cry. But it's not raining. And my face is definitely wet. Shell.

"I saw Master Yoshi's sword," Leo says softly. "I'm not sure _anything_ could have withstood the strength that must have been behind that blow. If you'd been blocking with my katanas, would they have broken too? I think so."

My brain seizes onto his words and I begin running scenarios in my mind of the force needed, the tensile strength of the katana, including the extra endurance from the alchemy I'd laid upon it, the difference between that and Master Yoshi's much larger sword – it had been his father's, worked by an alchemist many, many years ago. The different factors whirl and my mind clears. I let out a long breath.

"I don't know," is all I can say.

Leo just nods a bit and lapses into silence. I can't quite slide back into my unthinking, unfeeling haze, but I let the quiet drown out my feelings for a while.

"There's something you should know," Leo says eventually. I can't bother to rouse myself enough to ask, but I don't need to. "I don't know if it will make you feel better or worse, but you should know."

I wait. Leo lets out a long breath. Am I imagining it, or is the Fearless Leader uncertain about this? That would be a first. Well, maybe not a _first_ , but a _few_ for sure.

"We brought Master Yoshi's body with us from the battlefield," Leo begins slowly. "We couldn't leave it with _them_." Ah, there's the venom I haven't seen for a while from my oldest brother. Raph is the master of being raging angry all the time, but Leo gets more furious than anyone I've ever met, just not nearly as often.

"We couldn't return him to the valley for proper rites," Leo continues. "It was hard enough for Raph and I to sneak in with the horses to retrieve our supplies and belongings. A funeral pyre would never have escaped notice. So, with the permission of what remained of our people, we built a pyre out in the woods after. Master Splinter has the ashes."

Okay. Why exactly do I need to know this? I shift enough to look up but I never get around to asking. Leo stops me.

"We kept his armor, Don. We didn't know about your curse, but it didn't seem right to destroy what you had made when we didn't even know if you…" he trails off with a sharp hitch of his chest. He turns away.

Why? What was Leo…? Oh. Oh no. I see. They didn't know if I would survive.

And I suddenly start to imagine what it must be like for him right now. They came back from their mission to see me almost killed by the Shredder, our father close to death and our Master dead too. They flee with us, do all they can to keep me alive, have to tell our people the horrific news, and send our Master to the fire. And all this while they're probably fighting for my life against an injury that would have killed any man and possibly should have killed most Animals. I wonder how many times I came close to death myself, pulled back only by the fright and love of my brothers. Even Master Splinter wouldn't have been able to help them—

Shell! It's _always_ been me and Master Splinter who do the healing. How did they even manage it? How could they save me with wounds like this? Mikey and Leo can barely use alchemy to boil water. Raph's knowledge starts and ends in the forge. They must have been desperate, frantic, and totally out of their depths. Almost utterly helpless. My best healing bandage was already working on Master Splinter – they would have had to use the rest of my supplies, and I do leave notes about what to do in an emergency, but none of them have ever needed to rely on those before.

And when I wake up, all I want is to die. All their work and worry and fear and I betrayed it with my first conscious thought.

Oh my poor brothers. What sins have I committed against you as well? How could I have brought you so much suffering?

I can't help it. I wrench myself out of Leo's grasp and drop to the ground. He's quick enough to grab my shoulders before I bend double again – when I did this before Master Splinter I bled for almost another whole day. But I drop my head as much as I can.

"Leonardo, please forgive me. I allowed our Master to die, and I put you through so much anguish before you even knew that I no longer deserved to be called family. For weeks you selflessly cared for and protected me and I have done nothing since to earn your dedication. I'm so sorry."

I feel my chest constrict with a sob and "I'm sorry, big brother," breaks from me with some hateful tears.

"Donnie," Leo drops beside me and pulls me into his arms. "Oh Donatello. I miss Master Yoshi, too. But I'm so very glad, little brother, so _very_ glad that it's you who is alive. Ancestors forgive me, I would rather have you alive and have lost Master Yoshi than the other way around."

I cry harder against him at that. I don't deserve that kind of love and loyalty. I just don't! But I can't refuse it. I can't. I need it too much.

I cry until I am spent. As I fall quiet, Leo stroking my head and neck gently, he speaks softly without letting go.

"What I wanted to tell you is that we burned the broken pieces of your bo with Master Yoshi. We couldn't sacrifice your armor like that, but we thought he should pass into the fire with some sign of your loyalty."

I jerk my head up at that. "I'm nowhere near worthy enough for that honor!"

"Well, too late," Leo smiles tiredly. "It was done weeks ago, so you don't get a vote now."

Okay, I can't argue that logic even if I want to. I drop my head back to his shoulder.

"I'm not okay, Leo. I still can't help but believe that I need to atone for my crimes against our family and against the Shredder. I don't deserve this." Okay, body, that's not a signal to cling to Leo more tightly. But it's not listening right now. Or maybe it's me that's not listening to it. Whatever. Leo clings back just as tightly.

"I know, Donnie. You've got a lot of healing ahead of you, body and soul. But just knowing you're here and there's a _chance_ to heal is enough for me. When I thought you had died, when I thought I had left you to your death on that hill…well, I don't care about anything else now."

I nod against his shoulder.

I don't deserve a single kind word from Leo, from anybody, but I can't deny that I want this so badly it _burns_. I still don't want to live, but if I have to live, I'd rather be here beside my family than anywhere else. Because even if I don't deserve to, I still love them that much, too.

-==OOO==-

After my conversation with Leo in the woods, things don't get easier, but they do get less impossible. It's another week before I have the strength to ride a horse for any length of time. If you can count "length of time" as "from here to about as far as I can throw this rock" anyway.

My brothers had wonderfully thought ahead to bring not just most of my supplies and my easier-to-transport tools, but also the bulk of my library of notes and practical works. There were more tomes than I wanted to think about still left behind in our valley, but everything essential is somewhere in the many bags they carry with us. I praised their forethought, they praised the fact that my workshop had been organized so they knew which shelf to empty.

And I don't think too hard about the fact that they'd brought me all these things, risking discovery at every turn, all the while not knowing whether or not I would even be alive later to use them.

Included in my many stacks of notes, then, is a map that we began using as soon as I figure out where it was packed. I determine that we were almost on the other side of a mountain range that divides our continent in half, beyond which we don't even know what language they speak. So we make our progress towards that aim, where, we hope, we will have the time to recover.

The land here is different from our valley, and although I resented it at first, now I'm glad of it. The peacefully rolling hills and open fields that were our whole world for so long are behind us, and just as we have to replace our home and most of our possessions, we are also replacing the very countryside in which we will find them. This land is dense and rocky, even after we get out of the heights of the mountains, with thick, dark forests and few breaks in the trees. The villages we approach are few and far between, but we stop at none of them yet – we want to be far enough from the mountainous border that a casual investigation won't be able to track us before we make ourselves known.

I watch our journey with a heavy heart, for so many reasons. Master Splinter is finally riding, too, but he walks with the walking stick all the time now, not just when he is fatigued. I can see that his hip pains him whenever he puts weight on that side. Raph and Mikey have stopped hovering over me so worriedly, which is a nice change of pace, but I have yet to see their real spirits return. Both are taking the loss of our home really hard. Leonardo alone seems to have put the past behind him, and it is his quiet strength and his accepting demeanor that lifts our spirits the most. We could use some of Mikey's usual joyful bounciness, but at least Leo is content. I almost miss Raph picking fights, though. At least that would feel normal.

It takes us two months from the time I woke up before we find a place worth claiming as a home.

We hadn't really even planned to stop. We had been following a little-used road as it wound through the deep forest, and it had been two days since the last branch in the path with a sign that indicated any habitation nearby. The sign had suggested we were in range of a town called simply "Liberty." We'd joked about it then – poking some small fun at the fact that we needed not freedom but something more like "Sanctuary" or at least "Relief from Saddle Sores" – but moved on without investigating. Mikey was riding point a few lengths ahead to scout for trouble, and he gave the signal that we were again approaching some kind of settlement or town.

But as we round a bend in the path, we find that the road does not simply fork off to a nearby clearing, but rather passes through the center of a fair-sized meadow dotted with houses. I admit that I must be blinking stupidly in the suddenly bright sunlight after so many days under the dense wooded canopy, because I don't even realize Mikey is talking to someone until I hear a cheerful "Hello," at my elbow.

"Um, hi," I manage to stammer, looking down with a sudden blush.

"Welcome to Manha'tan," a woman smiles kindly at me. Her red hair is pulled behind her, though some wisps have worked themselves free. Her eyes are green and there is something so warm in her expression I feel some of the harsh ice around my own heart melt a little.

"We did not mean to disturb you," Leo says, and I don't miss his eyes carefully flicking around the area for any threats. "We're just passing through."

"Nobody's disturbing nothing," says a man with shoulder-length dark hair. He strides up with an arm slung over Mikey's shoulders like they're old friends. "Unless you count this guy."

"Mikey, what did you do?" Raph asks warningly.

"Hey! I was just riding along, minding my own business, when I look up and see him," Mikey jerks his thumb at the man, "hiding in a tree. Except not really hiding, because hiding means people can't see you and he was practically doing a little dance to try to get my attention! So I…"

"Mikey?" Uh oh. Leo's dismounted and crossed his arms. That's not good. Mikey starts talking faster.

"I chucked a pine-cone at him and he fell out of the tree is all!" my youngest brother squeaks.

"My apologies for my brother," Leo bows to the man. "He gets bored sometimes."

"Why were you in a tree anyway?" Raph wants to know, frowning.

"Protection," the man shrugs. "We've had some bandits in the area in the last few years and there's not a lot of people in Manha'tan who can take care of 'em. So I try to keep an eye out for trouble." He smiles sheepishly. "I guess I fell asleep 'cause I didn't even see you until I was looking up at you from the ground."

A gesture catches my eye and I see Master Splinter signal for Raph and I to dismount. We obey, and, like our brothers, let the horses go. They start to graze at the edge of the woods, but their ears are still pricked up and alert. At the slightest call from any of us, they'll be ready to flee with us if we need it.

"Forgive us our rudeness," Master Splinter says as he steps up to the man and woman. "It has been many weeks since we have seen a kind smile." He bows. "I am Hamato Splinter, and these are my sons – Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo." We each bow as he names us.

"My name is April O'Neil," the woman returns our bow gracefully.

"I'm Casey Jones," the man makes a more clumsy greeting. "So you folks just passing through, or what?"

"What Casey means," April elbows him with a small smile, "is that we would be honored to offer you shelter for the night if you would like to accept our hospitality. I manage the only public house in town, so there' room to spare and food for the evening if you need it. And," her smile becomes conspiratory, "it's on the house if you're willing to lend a hand around the place for the afternoon."

Master Splinter's dark eyes dart across the four of us, and I can practically feel him weighing our exhaustion with our caution. On the other hand, we're already here, sensei. It isn't going to get more noticeable now, anyway, and a real meal and a real bed would feel good. I'm not sure why, but suddenly I really want to stay someplace.

I think I'm tired of trying to outrun myself. And as with all things, when I've made up my mind, I want to get to whatever it is as quickly as possible. Come on, Master Splinter. Back me up here.

I sense more than see Leo's eyes flick towards me before he gives an almost-invisible nod to our father. How does he do that? Are you listening to me think right now Leo?

Gah! He looks right at me and smiles! That is _so_ creepy, bro.

"It would do our family much good to rest in a proper bed tonight and not out on the cold ground," our father smiles at the young woman. "And certainly we would be glad to offer whatever assistance we may in return."

Leo steps up, and I can practically feel him establishing his I'm-the-leader-you'll-do-what-I-think-is-best reputation. "What can we do to help? We will assist however we can."

"Well," April says, "I'm a little low on firewood right now, and with Casey up in his tree I've been cutting it all myself. I'll take some help with that for sure!" She smiles good-naturedly and I find myself relaxing even more. How long has it been since someone was so cheerful around us? Too long.

"What about other guards?" Raph asks. "You can't be the only guy looking out for this place." He tips his head at Casey.

"We don't need more than me and _maybe_ one other guy," Casey replies stubbornly. "The road passes through town but we've got The Woods everywhere else so we only have to watch the path on either end of the clearing."

Raph frowns at that and I am right there with him. What the shell? Why would the forest be safer than the path?

April sees our expressions and sobers. "You don't know about these Woods? The stories they tell?"

"No," Leo shakes his head. "We're new here. We're from very far away."

"You haven't been sleeping out in The Woods, have you?" Casey's eyebrows are up so high they're practically in his hair. "And you're still alive? That's impossible!"

"It seems you have a tale to tell us, Miss O'Neil," Splinter says smoothly. "Let us retreat to your place and settle into our duties. There will be time for stories when our debt is paid."

Nice, Master Splinter. Those two looked apoplectic for a minute there. Way to calm things down.

"All right. Well, if someone wants to help me with the firewood, there's a few other chores that need doing." April's smile has returned.

"I'm staying here," Raph decides. "I'll help this bonehead – um, person – keep an eye on things." Raph, why do you even bother to correct yourself when you do that? It sounds worse than the insult! But Casey just laughs anyway.

"Good idea," Leo looks at Raph and gives him one of those silent orders. It's not really very subtle, though. Clearly my brother wants Raph guarding us from here. I'm just as glad. I'm not buying this the-forest-is-inexplicably-safe thing.

The rest of us follow April into the town, where we get a few cautious waves of welcome from the other inhabitants, but most simply nod and get back to their work. I'm not offended. Visitors and strangers will keep for a few hours, but daylight won't, particularly in the growing season. April calls out cheerfully to people as we pass, and her obvious friendliness makes me feel a lot better. With someone to vouch for us, maybe the people here won't be so inclined to turn on us.

This village appears to be mainly farmers or herders, and the meadow that is the clearing we didn't expect to find is their field. Now that I'm looking around, it's a good size for a farming village. It looks to me like the people here work together on the little bit of land they have before the trees, rather than dividing it up into different peoples' property. At the far end, where the road spills back out of the town and away into the dark woods, a stream runs, but I also see several wells dug. Most of the houses are fairly close together, the barns set back a bit, probably to save the people from the animal smell, but I notice one house set back almost to the treeline where the stream slips out of the forest.

The public house, which others might call an inn, is right near the center of town. It's a broad, two-story building, wooden and mud-brick, and very sturdy, with a stable and barn behind. April shows us around with obvious pride; she explains that it was her father's, and she has run it herself for many years. The floors shine and the kitchen is beautifully appointed, although far more rustic than the last kitchen we saw. Upstairs, she gives us the choice of separate rooms or the big common room where travelers with less coin can purchase just a bed in a dormitory. Leo picks the common room, of course – paranoid as ever, Leo? But then, I don't really want to sleep in a room by myself yet, either. I don't want to wake up in silent darkness without knowing I'm not alone.

After the tour, we face April as she begins listing off some tasks.

"Besides the firewood, I could use some help in the kitchen with preparing the evening meal," she says. "With strangers in town, I'll have a full house looking for supper and gossip. And there is also a hole in the roof of the barn and stable behind the house that needs fixing, too. I keep asking Casey to do it, but he's usually on watch, so…"

"Mikey, you take the firewood, after you settle our horses," Leo says, and I can practically see my younger brother deflate. Ha. Mikey hates chopping wood. On the other hand, it's not like I'm in any shape to do it myself.

"I'll repair the roof," Leo offers. I gulp to keep from snorting and it comes out like an awkward hiccup. Leo glares at me. Hey, if you can tell what I'm thinking, you shouldn't be surprised, bro! It's not _my_ fault you absolutely, positively hate that kind of work. But Raph's not here and Master Splinter and I shouldn't be on a roof yet. And nobody wants Mikey trying to fix holes. He's better at creating them.

"I am more than willing to offer what assistance I may in preparing your meal," Master Splinter offers. "I am no cook, but I will gladly stir and chop and take direction from such an expert." He smiles at her and April colors prettily. She must not get many compliments. Too bad – she seems really nice.

"Thank you," she says. "Then…" and turns to me. Oh.

"Is there anything that needs fixing?" I manage to ask quickly. "Something, um, small?"

"Well, yes, but…" April trails off, looking at my bandages doubtfully.

"Don, maybe…" Leo begins, too. No way, Leo. I've got enough problems – I'm not going to let you baby me at the same time.

"I can help with something as long as I take it easy," I forestall him. I turn back to April and try to smile my old eager smile. "I'm pretty handy."

"Well," she's hesitating, and I can see it is out of concern, but something seems to help her make up her mind because she nods. "We haven't had a good carpenter or blacksmith in town for ages, and the guy down in Liberty isn't very good, so I've let a whole lot of little things just pile up. Hinges and bedframes and things like that. Anything you see propped up could probably use some help!"

I nod. I'm grateful to earn my keep, too. I start looking around the room more closely, only paying a little bit of attention as April tells Leo where to find the roofing material in the barn and asking if he needs a ladder, which, of course he doesn't. Now that I know what to look for, I can see a dozen tiny fixes I could make that would take a matter of minutes, from wobbly chairs to a metal latch on the shutters that is bent out of shape. I don't even notice I've drifted away to start on the latch until there's a tap on my shoulder.

"Want this?"

I turn to see Michelangelo grinning at me. In his hands is my toolkit, and at his feet is my shoulder-bag. When the shell did he leave to go get them? Oh. April and Master Splinter are already in the kitchen and Leo's nowhere in sight. I guess I got distracted.

"Thanks, Mikey," I say, reaching for my tools almost eagerly. It feels so good to have something practical to fix. I take out my medium set of tongs to begin bending the warped metal, but in my peripheral vision I can see Mikey still right at my elbow. If I yank on the latch and lose my grip, I'll get him right in the face.

"Yes?" I ask him, pausing.

"Nothing!" he grins even more. I frown. That's a big grin for "nothing," Mikey. He interprets my expression correctly and chuckles. "Just happy to see you looking like your old self, Don."

Like my old…oh. I guess I do feel kind of like my old self. Until he mentioned it, I hadn't been thinking about anything but the fixes in front of me. I hadn't even remembered anything else. The memory aches when I realize what I'd forgotten, but I smile at Mikey anyway. He didn't mean to bring me back to reality.

"Better get to that woodpile," I tell him. "Before Leo decides you're slacking off and makes it a training exercise."

"Eep!" Mikey says in mock terror, bounding out the door with a fond "See you later!" yelled over his shoulder.

I pause for a moment as I'm alone in the room, tools in my hands again. For a moment, I don't want to continue. My stomach flutters and I feel oddly scared. No. No, I will _not_ be useless. I owe my family too much to fail to pull my own weight. Yes, I'm afraid to make mistakes again, I'm afraid to fail, but I can't stand here and not do anything. And nobody will die if I fix a wobbly chair wrong. Okay. I can do this.

I focus on the metal latch and begin working it back into place. Between my tongs, my sheer strength, which, I note, is greatly decreased after my injury – yay, can't wait for Leo to decide to get me back in shape, going to be _super fun_ – and a single breathed word of alchemy, I put it to rights. Then I settle in with the chairs and other things in the room and soon I'm working methodically through the whole inn. Hours go by in a peaceful blur as I repair bits and pieces here and there, from sticky doors to floorboards that don't want to stay in place. I venture into the kitchen just long enough to determine that the stove needs major repair but not while it's in use, so, the whole inn covered, I move out to the barn.

Leo's still on the roof, pounding away. I could fix it much more quickly, but I'd have to get up there first. The only reason I've gotten so much done already is that I did most of it sitting down. Oh well. At the pace he's going, there's no way he'll be done before nightfall, so maybe tomorrow I'll take a crack at it early when I have all my strength. Instead, I look into the barn itself, noting the cleanliness of it. But one barn door's upper hinge is totally deformed, and it seems to be missing the lower hinge entirely. What the shell?

It takes me two tries but I finally manage to take down the door so I can get the hinge off and look at it properly. Hmm. From the stressed contours of the iron I'd say the door was wrenched open with incredible force. The door itself has been replaced, because I can see that the wood is new, but probably there wasn't someone who could bend the hinge back into place. I run my fingers over the hinge slowly. I thought at first that it had been warped by being torn open from the outside, but now I don't think that's true. There's something about the angle that suggests whatever tore this door open was inside the barn at the time. That rules out some kind of wind storm. Huh.

The hinge is stout and stubborn, and eventually I decide it won't go with just muscle and a tiny alchemy trick. I inscribe a symbol on it in chalk and make a tiny fire at my side where I'm sitting in the dirt in front of the barn. I set the hinge directly in the fire and hold my hands over it, muttering an incantation. As the sigil in chalk disappears in the flame, the hinge knits itself back into place. I pull it out of the fire gingerly. Hmm. One good hinge won't last long with this door – it'll just start warping again. What I really need…aha! I spot a scrap pile behind the barn and make my way over. Looks like the whole village dumps their odds and ends here. Perfect! There's lots of bent or broken bits of metal in the pile. I guess April wasn't kidding when she said the village didn't have a blacksmith.

I don't find the matching hinge to the door, but I don't need it. I find a wagon axle that's about the same size as my hinge, albeit a totally different shape. Then, it's a simple act of transferring the energy from the hinge I already fixed and the heat of the fire into the axle along with a simple command and the axle bends to match the first hinge's shape exactly. There! It takes me a few minutes to rest, though I barely notice the pounding of my still-healing wounds. I'm much more interested in affixing the hinges to the doorframe and re-hanging the door.

That done, I suddenly feel really thirsty. There's a well nearby, just a few steps away. Perfect. But, aw crud. The crank is rusted to immobility. No wonder the pail is just sitting on the ground rather than actually down the well. I wrap both hands around the crosspiece and feel the sigils on my palms start to warm at my will. One sharp word and the rust begins to flake off like wood shavings. I use one of my knee pads to rub at it, and with the same effort as if I were polishing it, the entire apparatus sheds its rust completely. Yay! The bucket still looks sound, and the rope is fine, so I drop the bucket in and draw up some water. Nice and cool. So worth the effort.

I'm just turning to find something else to do when April comes out the back door. "Time for supper!" she calls. Her eyes land on me and widen in surprise. She hurries over.

"You fixed the well!" she's positively alight with excitement.

"Um, yes?" I rub my beak, feeling suddenly shy.

"Oh, Donatello, thank you!" She actually grabs my hands in celebration. "Do you know how many years I've been drawing water from the well down the street? This will be so much easier!"

"Oh. Uh, I'm glad," I say. She must see my awkwardness, because she takes pity on me and swings her attention to where Mikey is proudly posing by the woodpile on the other side of the barn. She moves to him and thanks him profusely for his work, too. I'll admit it, he did chop a ton of wood.

I wash my hands in the bucket I pulled up, handing it over to a very, very grateful Leo when he jumps down from the barn's roof in one graceful leap. I wonder if he saw me struggling with the door. Yup, he's looking at me appraisingly. Shell. Now that I'm well enough, I get to recover my strength Leo-style. My poor muscles. If they think they hurt from disuse _now_ , wait until Leo starts working on them.

We finish washing up and head back inside in time to help Master Splinter finish setting the table nearest to the kitchen. It's still light out enough that most of the townspeople will be finishing up work before they come investigate the strangers. Raph and Casey stride in the door a few minutes later, bantering cheerfully. Looks like Raph made a friend.

The food is hearty and filling and my brothers and I go pretty quiet while we eat. I am so tired of eating over a campfire in the woods. I'm starting to feel like myself again here. A flush of guilt washes through me – I _shouldn't_ be happy, of course. And I'm not happy. But I do feel better.

My thoughts are starting to wander down a dark path again when Leo looks up at April and Casey. "So, can you tell us about this forest? And why you only guard the road and not all the perimeter of the town? It seems like bandits would rather surprise you through the woods than just ride up the road."

April and Casey exchange glances. Raph looks solemn too – I bet he got the story out of Casey while they were alone. Cheating, bro. Not fair for you to know first.

"Raph says you don't know nothing about this area, right?" Casey says, running a hand through his hair. "And the last time you stopped for the night was the other side from Liberty, so you wouldn't have known. It's a good thing you came here."

"But why?" Mikey asks, leaning forward. Oh boy. He's got that look on his face. If I know my brother, whatever story Casey tells us will get ten times more elaborate when Mikey retells it later.

"This forest is inhabited by a monster, a beast," Casey begins. "It's been here for generations. It never ever leaves The Woods, and it never steps onto the road. But if you get lost out in the trees, especially at night, they say you'll find it – or it will find you."

"A monster?" Leo frowns. "Are you sure it isn't just an Animal like us?"

"We're sure," April shudders. "We've seen it. Years and years ago, the townspeople wanted to expand their farmland. They cut down a bunch of trees a little up the road from here to make a new clearing. But the Beast came out that night, roaring and screaming in rage. It tore apart everything in the clearing and then started towards the town. The people got scared and tried to herd it into a barn to contain it, but it broke free and escaped." She takes a breath. "I was just a little girl, but I remember looking out my window upstairs and seeing its glowing red eyes. Maybe it was an Animal once, but now it's a demon. The Woods are his, and anyone who strays into them risks his wrath."

"That's why the bandits only come along the road," Casey finishes. "The Beast won't let them pass through The Woods either."

"Hasn't someone ever tried to fight it besides the townsmen?" Raph wants to know.

"Years ago a samurai came through to dispatch it," April says sadly. "He made it back to Liberty somehow, but he didn't survive the night. They say his legs were torn off."

Ugh. That's gross.

My brothers start asking more questions, but I stop listening. They want to know, quite indignantly, why the local Lord doesn't do anything about it. Of course he won't. He's probably got a nice snug castle on the other side of the mountains. This is too far away from anything for him to care about it. Besides, the people here obviously know how to deal with it as long as they play by this Beast's rules. It's not even the worst legend of these wild northlands I can think of. I hadn't heard this particular story, but I know lots others about dragons and demons and evil wizards and all sorts of things from this region.

The conversation is cut short when the door opens and April rises to greet the neighbors, who are soon followed by the couple a few houses down, and then the large family that lives across the way, and within the hour most of the town seems to be crammed in the inn's main room. They stare at us pretty good, especially the children, but there's no fear in their gazes, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. Clearly these people have met Animals before, and now that they can see we aren't monsters or their Beast, they are more curious than concerned.

The talk starts to slur together in my head and I realize I'm leaning heavily on Raph. I didn't notice I was so tired. I yawn fuzzily.

"Come on, brainiac," Raph says with a smirk. "Bedtime."

He doesn't carry me, which is good because that would be annoying and mortifying, but he does slip an arm around my shell to help me along. Master Splinter trails after us as Raph heads up the stairs. Our father directs my brother to guide me to the bed I'd picked for myself – one farthest from the door of course, just in case. If something attacks in the night, my brothers who are more fit than I should be nearest the threat since they'll be able to react quickest. It's just how we think. Raph sits down on the edge of my bed while I poke at the thick pillow.

"I heard from April that you worked a miracle on the barn and the well," he says while he begins the process of unwinding my bandages to check on my injuries. "Really impressed her."

I shrug and yawn again. The cold air makes me shiver when it hits the raw parts of my plastron, but in the light from the small bedside candle Master Splinter holds close, I can see that the worst of the cuts have closed and the thick scales of my plastron are starting to creep over the scars. I'll probably always have a major weak spot here where my plastron won't protect against a blow, but I'm just grateful to have avoided an infection in my chest cavity.

"This place seems most welcoming, and also most isolated," Master Splinter says above me. "Miss O'Neil was happy to tell me of her idyllic life here. Aside from the threat in the trees beyond, it is a fine place to rest."

But he's looking at me really sharply. I feel like I should know what he's driving at, but I don't. I'm too sleepy. Then Raph starts re-wrapping my chest and his touch is gentle and soothing. I'll just close my eyes and ask in a minute…

I wake up in the dark alone. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, but the cold knot of fear that formed the instant my eyes opened doesn't melt until I hear a familiar voice drift to me from far away.

"…seemed happy today." That's Raph talking. I can only just make it out – they must still be downstairs. I roll out of the bed silently. Having fixed many of the floorboards up here, I know all the noisy ones now, so I am able to creep to the room's doorway where I can hear more clearly.

"I haven't seen Donnie look like that since…" Mikey trails off.

"It's obvious you guys have been through a lot," April says softly. "I can see the suffering on Donatello's face when he thinks no one is watching."

"But fixing things today seemed to take him out of it for a while," Leo says. "For a little while there, it felt like we had our brother back."

Oh, ancestors. There's so much sorrow in his voice.

"Yeah," Raph says roughly, and the sorrow in _his_ voice is even worse. Raph _doesn't_ cry. But he sure sounds like he wants to.

"We have traveled long and far from our home," Master Splinter's voice rises up steady as always. "We must begin to rebuild a life somewhere, no matter what we decide to do in the future. But after watching Donatello today, it is my belief that we must select a place that is more than simply isolated and secure and welcoming. We must also select a place where my son may rebuild his spirit. For that, Donatello must feel useful. So, Mister Jones, Miss O'Neil, tell me – is there work for one such as Donatello here?"

"Oh yeah," Casey says. "I looked at the barn when we checked on the horses. That door has been weird since we were kids. And he fixed it all wrapped up and hurt? Yeah, there's not a house in the town or in Liberty or way out in any of the other little places around here that doesn't have a dozen problems like that at least."

"Solving problems is what Donnie does best!" Mikey sounds cheerful, but I know him too well. He's hopeful, not happy. But he's a lot closer to happy than I've heard him in a long time.

"My sons," I hear Master Splinter's smile, "let us all meditate upon this tonight, and meet again at dawn with our insights. If what you find in the quiet of your minds is what I hope, at noon we will gather with Donatello as a family and make a decision."

That's a dismissal, and while I'm pretty sure two of my brothers will come up here and sleep instead of meditate, they all get the hint and start tromping up here. Well, quietly. Even ninjas don't tromp very loudly. I get back into my bed well before they arrive and pretend to be asleep.

It's not the thought of staying here that keeps me up a while, though. It's the amount of care my family is taking for what I might need. All they want, _all_ they want is for me to get better. All they want is for me to remember who I was before it all came crashing down and find a way through it. There isn't much here for us, but there's enough, I guess. But all they care about is whether there's enough here for _me_.

On my honor, or whatever remains of it, I'll earn every bit of that selflessness and love. If it costs me every breath for as long as I live, I will give back to my family everything they have given me. Or I'll die trying.

And so at noon the next day, I vote with the rest of my brothers to make our home in Manha'tan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'll be honest. There's a good chance I'll forget to update next weekend. My 88-year-old grandmother will be visiting me and I'll be singing in a concert (and performing several solos). If Sunday evening comes and goes and you haven't heard from me, send me a message or a review or something and I'll try to get it up promptly. But I really will try to remember to do it on Friday or Saturday!
> 
> Enjoy!

It doesn't take long for us to settle in to our new home. First of all, we get a house, which is a very happy surprise to us! It turns out that the house on the edge of the trees by the creek was once owned by the local blacksmith. The house itself has been vacant for a few years, but it still has a full and working forge right on the creek, which is useful for cooling metal, and there's also enough space for a fair-sized training dojo that used to be a carpenter's shop. My family hesitates for two whole days before I finally just cut through the awkward uncertainty and affirm, _yes_ , they can take the woodshop and make it into a proper dojo and _no_ , I'm not offended to give up the space.

Besides, the house is plenty big enough. The downstairs is one big room, kitchen and living area together. Upstairs there's three bedrooms right in a row, and then there's another built on the other side of the chimney that runs up the center of the house. There's also an attic above, but it's so short only Master Splinter can stand up – the rest of us have to duck or crawl. We offer to give Master Splinter the best bedroom, the one off by itself, which is also the largest, but he refuses and instead takes the smallest. When my brothers then vote to give me the largest one that's on its own for my new workshop, there's nothing I can do to dissuade them. We draw lots, but I think Mikey rigged it because he winds up sharing a room with Raph while Leo and I take the middle bedroom between them and our father.

For two straight weeks, every time Raph tries to go to bed in his room, he finds something new between his sheets, from a dead eel to a pile of pine-cones. Oh Mikey. His nightly laps about the house evading Raph's temper become a thing of hilarious beauty.

And that resurgence of Michelangelo's usual joy and laughter marks a rebirth in the family for most of us. Leo and Master Splinter remake the attic into a meditation room, since it's at least tall enough that we can sit in it, and they spend many hours there exploring the astral or whatever they do. Raph and Casey become inseparable friends, and they take to sharing the watch duty over the town. It turns out that the tree Casey was in when we met him is a lone oak tree that's a few yards into the clearing from The Woods, and with some help from the rest of us, we convert it to a perfect lookout. It's high enough that we can see both roads where they come into Manha'tan plus the entire village and its lands, and we hide it so well in the tree's leaves you can't even see it from the ground. Of course, we have to teach Casey to climb like we do to get all the way up into the lookout, but he proves to be fairly adept with ninja ways.

A week after we move in, after we've smoothed down the stone floor of the former woodshop and added a layer of springy rushes underneath some thin floorboards, the dojo opens for real. It's high summer now, so we throw open the broad doors – I think this used to be a communal stable because there's a door wide enough for a humungous wagon that was probably used to settle the area – to catch the breeze. I've got coals cooking in the forge, adding a warm smokiness to the air. In winter we'll close the doors and light the forge up for heat, and by then I'll have crafted some better insulation for the whole building, as well as the house. At dawn that first official morning, Master Splinter and Leonardo get up extra early and paint the Hamato symbol on the wall. But I note when I arrive just after they've finished that they replaced the traditional Bushido virtues which would normally be inscribed in various places with the names of the five of us.

I don't know if I'm grateful or not. If they were there, so would be my shame for all to see. But to remove them for my sake is a dishonor on my family too. Sometimes I just can't win.

While Leo leads Raph and Mikey through an absolutely _brutal_ series of forms and katas, commenting disparagingly on how much refinement they've lost in the weeks since we could do more than a quick morning run-through before moving on, Master Splinter draws me aside. We both know how to test for weakness and muscle damage, and since we've been in Manha'tan we've been slowly assessing my recovery. Now he runs me through a few simple stretches before working with me on a very sedate, serene form more for meditation than combat. Oh _shell_ it hurts so much to move like this. Sitting, standing, even hanging a door and moving in didn't feel like this. But Master Splinter is slow and patient and together we bring me through a full set.

"Very well done, my son," he says kindly at the end after I've bowed. "Given the severity of your injuries, I expected you to be much less capable. You will regain strength and skill rapidly now, and we shall see that you lose none of your effectiveness."

He looks at me sharply for a moment. "I wish to know if you will take up your bo again for further training."

"No." I say it reflexively like a sneeze, and just as sharply. Uh oh. He's looking at me. I better explain. "I will fight with whatever you put in my hands, sensei," I amend politely, "but I will never again craft weaponry or armor. Not in the conventional way and not with my alchemy."

"My son," Splinter steps towards me and puts his hand softly on my chest. "This blame you carry poisons you. I will accept your choice if you make it with a clear heart, but I wish you would consider your reasoning. You cannot blame your gifts for the fate that befell our Master. You tried to save him, Donatello. As you would save any of us."

Oh, father. I duck my head. I so wish that were true. But I'm not…I can't…I will fail…

"Hellooooo there!"

Saved by Casey Jones! My knees shake with relief. This was a conversation I wanted to have maybe, um, never.

"Morning Case!" Raph grunts. Looks like while Master Splinter and I have been busy, Leo let up the relentless training and instead is directing Raph and Mikey in hanging new punching bags and such. We won't store our weaponry here – too much of a security risk, after all – but Master Splinter won't let Raph pound out his feelings in the house, either. Raph's got one bag, filled with sand from the weight of it, mostly up on one shoulder. Mikey's hanging upside-down from the rafters to affix the chain.

"Nice setup, guys!" Casey grins, stepping in. I cringe. Oh, he's so going to—

" _Stop right there_." Leo's voice is so sharp and loud Casey actually pauses with one foot in the air. Mikey freezes too, and Raph almost topples over from the weight of the bag. I move over to take some of the weight, but he swings it away from me and chews Mikey out instead. So protective, even when he's pissed. Or maybe especially when he's pissed. Anyway, I turn away to watch the more fun lecture going on.

"And therefore!" Leo has struck his full-on lecturing pose now, and poor Casey is still standing there, one foot in the air, "if you ever wish to enter this dojo, to respect all the rules and traditions therein, you will bow first and remove your shoes." Leo actually grins wickedly and I have to pretend to cough to not laugh in Casey's face. "If you _ever_ walk on our floor in your shoes, Casey Jones, we will punish you as we would any ninja in training."

"Hope you like backflips!" Mikey crows as he drops from the ceiling.

Poor Casey. He starts trying to get his boot off while it's still in the air and he loses his balance horribly. He tips back out into the yard and lands on his backside. But he pulls both boots off and manages to stand up without looking completely abashed. At the doorway, he bows properly.

"Yes, Mister Jones?" Master Splinter slides into place, whiskers twitching. I think he has too much fun playing the good guy to Leo's bad guy disciplinarian sometimes.

"I…I want to learn to fight good," Casey says, still bowing. "I'm just a kid who grew up watching bandits come after this town, and my dad died fighting them. Nobody knew how to really defend themselves. I want to learn."

Well, that is surprising! Even Fearless Leader looks caught off-guard. But Master Splinter smiles gently. I wonder if he is surprised, too. I bet he isn't.

"You may join us, Mister Jones. Be here every day at dawn and again at dusk. You will train with my sons diligently. Have you other duties than your self-appointed watchfulness?"

"Um," Casey stammers, "I do a lot of the heavy stuff at harvest time and I run a lot of messages with Liberty since I'm not scared to travel the roads. But I'm not a farmer."

"Then when Raphael relieves you in your lookout or you are not busy with other tasks, you will report to me for additional training. You will need to build up a new kind of strength if you wish to learn the ways of the ninja."

"Yes sir!" Casey says smartly.

"Call him 'sensei,' not 'sir,' you moron," Raph hisses.

"Yes sensei," Casey amends.

Thus we gain another fighter. For the rest of summer and early fall, Casey is as good as his word. He never misses a practice round, though we usually release him before we would finish our own routines just because he lacks the patience and stamina for everything at the start. He often gets paired with me, since I was recovering and Casey was like a newborn colt so we were a fair match. But as the old knowledge comes back to my mind and my limbs, Casey falls behind. To our further surprise, Master Splinter appears one morning with April in tow, and she joins us as well. Now there are six of us training two and three times a day. The humans are good – not as good as my brothers, of course – and they soon find a rhythm of their own that makes them a formidable team. April is lithe and quick and silent, and Casey is strong and solid.

We also watch them become slowly closer in other ways. April had been born and raised in Manha'tan alongside Casey, and it seemed like as children they'd always been friends. But the way Casey tends to blush and stay truly idiotic things around April isn't lost on us. We know all about courting between humans. Except for how Casey is _appalling_ at it.

When I'm fully back to the level of my brothers, or as close as I ever get anyway, we return not only to drilling in combat, but the other skills of a ninja. With the wide open space of the meadow, we train our horses to new commands and new fighting techniques. We become more silent and invisible than ever before – we never realized it was so much harder to be silent when there is no full palace complex to hide one's movements and sounds. April and Casey don't have horses of their own, but they both drill on Professor, and bizarrely, Hothead takes to Casey fairly well, so we expand their lessons again.

Our life becomes very comfortable. Besides the return to our training routine, which feels so normal it sets right something I didn't even know was broken, we all have our jobs. Leonardo gets named as the town's official "champion" after almost no debate, so he starts spending more time up in the lookout too. But mostly he prefers to find a quiet, sunny spot on the edge of the treeline and wait for trouble to come to him. Michelangelo ends up having primary care over the house and the chores – cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. He's also mostly the one stuck making all the firewood, and with the house and the forge to feed, that's a never-ending project, though I try to help sometimes. Raph splits his time with Casey in the lookout and with me in the forge.

Because of all of us, I'm the most busy. Manha'tan reacts to a new resident blacksmith and sometimes-carpenter by bringing things by the pile for repair. Before the end of summer, I've fixed or built something for every family in Manha'tan, and Liberty, and Staten, the nearest town a few days to the north. I seem to fix a lot of wheels, actually, which _stinks_ because they're _boring._ But Raph was a fair blacksmith back in our valley and before long he is able to take over some of the basic work while I handle more complicated matters. My alchemy becomes pretty well-known too, and so after a while I'm not only fixing items, but people. I always explained that I'm not a proper healer, until one day when April pointed out that there _is_ no healer anywhere nearby and I give up. Still not a healer, but apparently I'm all we have.

Every day, something new needs fixing, from a child's toy to the pot that has finally rusted through to a broken arm. I teach Raph some of my simpler alchemy and _finally_ there is someone else able to take on the easy tasks. One memorable day, I find myself helping to deliver a baby while Raph uses alchemy and Hothead to yank a giant stump out of the field behind the house. The immobile usually moves when faced with my red-masked brother, though. I learned that a long time ago.

And, hey, I helped deliver a tiny little baby girl, whose mother named her Tella in my honor! Every time I see Tella nestled against her mom's shoulder in April's place when we stop there for supper instead of at home, I feel warm and whole inside for a moment.

Winter passes into spring, and we spend half the winter sleeping, it seems. The cold, dark days make our Animal instincts want to sleep, and we give in to them. Besides, we suffer in the cold so much more than humans. Some nights we don't even retreat to our bedrooms – we stay in a pile in the big room downstairs before the fire. Mikey tells his stories and we tell ours, and always I have something in my hands to fix. But never weapons. Raph does what he can, and bandits are few and far between, so the fact that I won't do more than sharpen blades now doesn't hamper us much. No one asks me about it, though, and Master Splinter never brings it up again, and for that I'm truly grateful.

Master Splinter had described this place as idyllic, and he's right. It is. As weeks and months vanish, I feel the rest of the world fall away. I never forget, of course. I carry a scar that makes it impossible for me to move or look at my arms or anything without being reminded of that horrible day. But just as journeying here lulled me into a sort of hazy non-thinking daze, living here seems so far away from everything real that I can just let it go. I don't think about committing _seppuku_ as often now, though I'm well capable of it after having recovered so much. I don't think about wanting to die all the time. I have full range of motion now, and my plastron, while still hideous to behold without the single light bandage I wear more to cover up the ugliness than for any practical purpose, is probably as healed as it will ever be.

But those feelings remain, buried and bitter, and I don't lightly forget them. I think I am as healed as I will ever be, too, and how little that is.

As the spring heads towards summer, my easy haze bends and breaks. The anniversary of Master Yoshi's death approaches, and the closer it gets, the harder it is to ignore. We all stop looking at one another. Or maybe that's just me. Every hour that crawls towards that day is like a sinking stone in my stomach.

Master Splinter tells Casey and April that there will be no training that day, and they are puzzled but they don't ask. For all the months we've lived here now, they've never pried into where we came from or what happened to us, but I suspect Raph of blabbing to Casey. Either way, they leave us alone to an uncomfortably quiet meal the night before without comment.

That morning is coldly clear, which seems unfair somehow. It should be dark and stormy like our hearts.

We assemble before dawn in the dojo. In one corner we'd built a shrine to Master Yoshi, though there's one in my upstairs workshop too and one in the attic meditation room – that's the one that holds his ashes. Before the sun has even considered touching the treetops, we kneel before the shrine.

"My Master Yoshi," Master Splinter intones softly, "we honor you still though you are gone from us." He passes a paw over the urn of ashes brought down for this purpose. "We miss you, Lord Hamato Yoshi."

There's a long silence where we all pray quietly. As the sun begins to light the sky, Master Splinter begins to tell Master Yoshi about our life, where we have come, how we are. He says nothing of the battle we lost or the valley that was once our home. He only speaks of Manha'tan and the progress of my brothers and I in our ninja training.

I wish he would admonish me. I wish he would blame me that we are here, speaking to cold, dead ashes and not the living man we swore to serve and guard. But he doesn't.

That day the forge lies still and cold, and we do almost no work. We hang a dark cloth over our door to show we are in mourning and the village leaves us alone. It's just as well – my brothers and I, without our father's requesting it, spend the day in silence. We speak not a word to one another all day, and our few necessary activities are stilted and awkward. I can see in the others' faces that they, like me, are still grieving profoundly.

At sunset, we reassemble in the dojo.

"My sons," Master Splinter says, and his face looks weary. "I have come to a decision."

Did I imagine that? Nope. With Leo it was subtle, but Mikey's not subtle at all. He scoots on the mat until he's really close to me. Kind of in front of me. Leo's turned, too. Oh, you guys. You can't protect me if our sensei has decided the time has come for me to pay for my crimes. But I love you for trying.

"Master Yoshi's ashes must be returned to his valley," our father says instead, ignoring but certainly not missing my brothers' protectiveness. "He deserves to be laid to rest with his own ancestors."

"I will begin preparations at once, Master," Leo says, and yes, I can hear that relief you're trying to hide, bro.

I wish I shared it, but I don't. Even after a year, I still don't.

"No, Leonardo," Master Splinter says. "I thank you for your dedication, but this is a journey I must undertake alone. Honor and I will set off in one week. By my understanding, though it took us three months to get here before, a great deal of that time was slowed due to the pace it was required we set due to our circumstances. I will not be so hampered, so I should be able to make the journey in half that time, and half again to return."

"You'll be gone for three months?" Mikey asks.

"Yes, Michelangelo. I will return to you before the end of summer and our final duty to our Master will be complete."

He turns away from us and looks at the Hamato symbol on the wall.

"We have been a broken family long enough. When Master Yoshi rests with his people, we will continue on as a proper Clan, the only surviving members of the Hamato Clan. Master Yoshi had no children of his own, so we are his legacy. It is time we accepted that legacy with honor and strength instead of sorrow. It is time we let go of our painful past."

Nobody is looking at me. I bite the hollow of my cheek until it bleeds. Inside, I can feel myself screaming. Because I _can't_. I _can't_ and I never ever will. My punishment, if not death or expulsion, is to live with this pain forever. I deserve so much worse. But I don't say anything. I can't disobey my father on top of everything else.

Still, when he leaves a week later, there's so much bitterness in me. Master Splinter tries to tell me something probably meant to be profound and comforting, but just then there's a cry from a field where someone has fallen injured and I make a quick apology and dash off rather than stay and listen. I've never been so glad for a broken leg before. Anything to get away in that critical moment. I find a lot of moments to get away after that. For the three months our father is missing, whenever Leo isn't drilling us in the dojo, I find reason to be up in my workroom by myself. It's either that or creatively avoid talking to him.

Of course, Leonardo gets wise to my little plan and increases our training in what I think is an attempt to drag me out more often. He's such a jerk. But my dragon kicks have never been so good, either.

It's a week past the three months since Master Splinter left when he appears in the early morning.

We're already drilling in the dojo with April and Casey when we hear a familiar whinny. Leo doesn't stop us from jumping up and leaning out the door. To our surprise, we see Master Splinter not riding up from the south, but from the road that leads north. Honor is running a little fast, and something strikes me as being really wrong. Maybe it's my Animal instincts, but I feel like I can sense her fear.

"Master Splinter!" Raph shouts, and he's running to meet him. I think Raph feels it too. Mikey's the fastest, though, so he intercepts the horse before the rest of us. He gives our sensei a hand down from the saddle.

"Father, what's happened?" Leo steps up at once.

I can't help it. I'm staring. I think we're all staring. What the _shell_?

Master Splinter looks…amazing. He was an elderly rat when we were given to him as infants, and he was way past wizened even before the strain of the last year. But now it's as though he is almost young again. His fur has lost a lot of its dusty grey, restoring it to a darker, more vibrant hue interspersed with some of his original brown coloring. He isn't limping, either, and I have to blink twice before I believe what I'm seeing – the ear that was chopped off by the Shredder is whole! But for all of this, his eyes look deeply burdened, as they did in the first weeks after the death of Master Yoshi.

"It is a long and sad tale," he says. He's moving lightly, but there is no lightness in his steps as he opens his arms. My brothers and I fold into his embrace as we have rarely done since we were tiny enough to all fit in his arms. I don't need to look to know the tight worry on my face is mirrored in the others.

"Allow me some time to meditate," he says when he releases us at last. "Continue about your day as you will. After supper, we shall speak."

April and Casey take the cue to disappear for the day, but Raph wanders off probably to vent at them. For that matter, I myself go down to April's place, ostensibly to repair her stove _again_ , but mainly to talk. She's become a good friend to me, and she's interested in alchemy herself so we have much in common. But best of all, in the year we've been here, April has come to love us like family. We never had a sister, not even one in the Clan. But now we have April. I don't talk much – I try not to burden her with the dark thoughts of my heart – but just being near her and remarking on things like the harvest and whether this year's cider will be good makes it easier to bear.

After a tense and oddly quiet supper, we sit around in the great room, while Master Splinter takes his place in his favorite chair. He closes his eyes for a moment before he begins his tale.

-==OOO==-

My journey south was without incident (he says). Honor and I were able to move swiftly, and with the help of an improved map, we found our way there directly, without taking several of the twists and turns I recall from our first journey over those lands. In five weeks, we were looking down on our own valley once more.

I must tell you, my sons, I am grateful you did not accompany me. You would rage as I did at the change in our beloved homeland. The valley is torn and rent like the carcass of a deer left to the wolves. The reach of Oroku Saki is long indeed, and his conquest ended not with our valley but continues to the east and west. Many of the people we once knew and protected have fled, and, I fear, did not survive their escape.

The home we once knew is half destroyed now, but I walked its hallways reverently anyway. It is well you took all you did, my sons, for those rooms we used to call our own were in disarray as though attacked in a rage, particularly your workshop, Donatello. My heart ached for the torn hangings and smashed memories that surrounded me.

But I continued on to the Hamato family shrine. This, at least, had been spared. While the Lord Oroku Saki may have little honor himself, and the Shredder none, it appears they both fear the wrath of the ancestors. I was able to leave Master Yoshi's ashes and make my prayers in peace. And it was a weight from my spirit when I did so. I could almost see him, my own dear Master, at rest at last with his family. I would like to believe he and his ancestors watch over us now, the last of the Hamato Clan.

I did not linger in our valley – I could not bear it. I tried to find any of our old friends amidst the poor sufferers still left alive, but all those whose faces I saw were unfamiliar, or perhaps they were masked by the fear and hunger they now count as their masters. While I have come to appreciate this home in Manha'tan, I believe there may be cause for us to one day return and seek justice for our Master Yoshi. Though I would not advocate we revenge ourselves upon his murderer, I feel some duty to those we left behind. But that is a conversation for another day.

I began to return to you, more cognizant than ever of the long reach of Oroku Saki. Honor and I took some extra time to ensure our path was concealed, and we were forever watchful. My focus was on ensuring a safe return quickly, that we might discuss whether or not we ought to ever return south in force to right what has been done there. It is this, I believe, that caused my great error in judgment. For in all my thoughts of our future, I forgot the knowledge of our lands. I forgot the story of the Beast, and it is my great regret.

Yesterday, the sun was setting, but I did not stop, knowing I was but a few miles from Liberty and thus a few scant hours from you and home. Perhaps if I had stayed on the road it would have been enough, but my map clearly showed that the road curved sharply around what I believe to be a nearly impenetrable forest between here and Liberty. It is not marked as anything other than The Woods, and with a bright half-moon to guide me, I thought surely I could navigate through the trees as I had done until then on my journey and thus reach you all the sooner. So into the night we rode and we left the safe path behind.

But the trees grew oddly dense, and all directions seemed wrong. It may be that we passed over the same ground several times. I could no longer tell. Even my keen sense of smell could not distinguish anything in that lush, dark, shadow-filled Wood. I decided I must wait until sunrise to continue and found a place where there seemed to be a shallow grotto in which we could spend the night. I led Honor there and tied her to a stout tree. I needed no fire for the nights are still warm enough, but I could not rest, so I scouted the perimeter.

I do not know what occurred next. One moment I stood on solid ground, the next I was sliding down, down, down. I saw lights overhead that I thought must be stars, that I had slipped into a ravine somehow. But when I landed on soft earth, I was certainly underground, with no light anywhere and no way to know how to return. And I was not alone.

"You should not have come!" growled a voice as deep as the ocean and as deadly as a blade. From the darkness came three glowing red eyes. I braced myself.

The form I saw might have been Animal once, as our friends told us long ago, but I cannot believe that Beast is an Animal now. He was more like the _wani_ demons of the old tales. Three eyes glowed with a fiery red light like that of the forge, two small and set up high, the third larger and lower. I might have thought it a mouth but the light from the red glow illuminated a long snout and rows upon rows of wicked teeth.

"You will die!" the voice bellowed, and I felt the very ground rumble.

"Perhaps," I said, thinking to myself that I would not die silently or fearfully, "but not easily or without contest."

The battle that followed was one of the most dangerous of my life as a warrior. The Beast was strong and agile, and he could obviously see where I could not. I evaded him for several turns, fleeing blindly through the dark tunnels. I had lost my walking stick in my fall, so I was not as swift and had no weapon, but as you know, such things do not stop true ninja. I used silence and invisibility and struck whenever the opportunity presented itself. But this was a battle I was destined to lose.

I felt a great weight strike my chest and fling me into the air. I do not recall landing and must have been unconscious.

When I awoke, it was to an entirely different set of surroundings. I was in a bright room, though I could see no windows and it still smelled of the underground. I was resting upon a proper bed covered in furs, and I felt refreshed and comfortable as I have not for many, many years. In one shadow of the room, a dark form loomed.

"You survived," said a voice that was similar to the one I had heard, but not so furious. I would say it was almost surprised.

"Thanks to your kindness." I sat up fully. "Did you save me from the Beast?"

"I did," the voice answered me. "But he is still close by. He is easily roused, so you must take care to keep your voice low and your movements still."

"Are you a prisoner of the Beast?" I asked the shadowy form. "Am I?"

"No, you are no prisoner," the form replied, "but I am, yes."

"Then come with me," I said, rising to my feet and feeling wonderfully limber and strong. "I am Splinter, and I am not afraid of him. Together we can escape him and return to the surface."

"Impossible," said the voice, and stepped into the light.

It was the Beast himself! But his eyes did not glow now, and he looked far less monstrous. I would say that perhaps he seemed larger in the dark, but you know by now that my senses are keener than that. It was not that the Beast was larger only because of the dark, but that he was literally of greater size when I had seen him last. And yet there was no mistaking this creature for anything but the _wani_ Beast I had battled. The evidence of my few landed blows was still on his arms were I had scratched deeply.

"Do not recoil," the Beast said. "I will not harm you now."

"Why?" I asked.

"I have a…proposition for you."

That surprised me enough that I was disposed to silence, so I stood silently and waited.

"These Woods are mine and I guard them possessively," the Beast said. "You knew as much when you passed into my territory, did you not?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I knew."

"Then by rights, you must die for entering my lands."

"And yet you did not kill me when you could have."

"No I did not," the Beast said, and he seemed almost puzzled by this. "But you are also the first to fight back against me with any true skill. Never have I faced one such as you. Perhaps it was this that stayed my hand."

"Then if I must fight you for my freedom, I will," I told him. "My Clan awaits me and I will not leave my sons without a father."

"If you fight for your freedom, you will lose and you will die. I spared you once, but it will not happen again."

"Then what do you propose?"

"You say you have sons?" the Beast asked, and I felt coldness in my heart. I was sorry then I had ever mentioned you, my sons, and I am sorrier now. But I spoke then with pride – if they were to be my last words, they would be honorable.

"I have four sons, all trained as ninja like myself," I said. "They are strong and honorable and brave. I will not let you keep me from them."

"Then here is my proposition," the Beast replied. "I will allow you to leave. I know your horse. You are of Manha'tan, and I know your sons. They are the turtles who live there now and have guarded it for the last year. I will return you to them."

"In exchange for what?"

"In one month, when the moon is again half full, one of your sons will come to me here."

"For what purpose?" I asked.

"His purpose will be my own. You need not know it. But the son who comes here would never again return to Manha'tan. He would remain here always and you would not know his fate. It would be mine."

I did not question him further. "No," I said. "I would rather die here and now than send one of my sons to you like a sacrificial offering. I will never allow them to come to harm."

"I would not mean them harm," the Beast replied. "But I am a Beast, and it may not be helped. If you refuse me, however, you will certainly die."

"Then I will die."

"Then perhaps you would be willing to postpone the inevitable for a time? You need not die today."

"You would permit me to leave, to give me one month in which to say goodbye to my sons before I must return?"

"Yes," the Beast said. "If you cannot allow one of your sons to save your life, you may yet pay for this with your own. Certainly your sons would rather know why you disappeared. And if you do not return to them, perhaps they will come searching for you."

I weighed his words and realized that what he suggested might well be true. I could not risk any of you deciding to leave Manha'tan and finding yourselves against this Beast. I, for all my skills, survived him only because he allowed it. And I did not wish you to mourn, nor to do something foolish like charge back to our valley for vengeance when none was needed on my behalf.

"Our pact," the Beast said, "shall be this. I will lead you out of here. I will wait one month. Either one of your sons or you yourself must return to me by the end of that time. If you fail to appear, I will come and fetch you in Manha'tan. If you flee me, I will find you and it will go far worse for you and any who have interfered."

"You need not threaten the innocent," I told him and I was rather angry. "I am a ninja of honor. My word will bind me."

"Then give me your word," the Beast said. "And in a month you will give me one of your sons or yourself."

"I give you my word," I said. And my heart broke with the saying of it, for I knew the pain I was now to cause you, my sons. But I so wished to see you once again, and I wished you to know all.

The Beast nodded and turned towards what seemed to me to be a solid stone wall. "Sleep," he said to me. "There is also food if you wish it. I will come to lead you out before dawn."

I did not eat his food, but I allowed myself to settle into meditation. However, either I was drugged or I fell into a stupor of some kind, for when I woke, I was outside, lying on my blanket beside Honor. I found also a mark on the tree to which I had tied Honor that pointed forward. Wasting no time, I began to walk, leading her, following the mark. A few trees on, there was another mark. I followed this, too, and after several more, found myself on the road. And so it was only a little riding before I returned to you here.

-==OOO==-

When he finishes, we all sit still and quiet. I don't think anybody knows what to do or say. I sure don't.

Finally Raph explodes. "There's _no way_ you're going back there, Master Splinter! It _ain't_ happening!"

"Yeah! How come a Beast that kidnaps you gets to ransom you to, you know, yourself?" Mikey puts in sort of unhelpfully. Oh Mikey.

"Sensei, is it possible we could go into The Woods together to find this Beast and defeat him?" Leo wants to know. "Surely all five of us could overpower him and then you would be free of this deal."

Oh, my brothers. I look at them fondly, feeling an odd sort of detachment steal through me. I glance at my father – he's looking at them with an expression I think I'm sharing. Raph's handling this the way he handles everything, with anger and denial. Mikey wants things to make sense and he also wants them to be funny. Leo wants to fight it. But just like with me and my own shame, this isn't something that can be destroyed or ignored or laughed at or defeated. It's a truth, an immutable fact. None of us want this to happen, and yet, we can't stop the rain by will alone. We couldn't save Master Yoshi by sheer desire. Sometimes some things must happen because it is necessary that they happen. An alchemist knows better than to fight with the laws of fate.

But he does learn to bend them to his own will.

"I am sorry, my sons," our father says softly. "There will be no discussion. When the month ends, I will surrender myself to the Beast as I have promised."

No, sensei. You won't.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I knew it would happen. Apologies all over for the lateness of this chapter. On the plus side, that means the horrible cliff-hanger at the end will be resolved after only a few days instead of making you wait a week!
> 
> This chapter is for Cele for reminding me that I missed the weekend. And to be honest, after the weekend I had, I legitimately needed the reminder.
> 
> Enjoy!

For the first time in more than a year, I feel almost happy. It's an effort to hide it, but I manage probably because my brothers are so focused on Master Splinter. Leo's face is all scrunched up, as if he is seeking a logical way out of the deal made, Raph has already gone out to the woodshed to chop a tree or two to pieces in his rage, and Mikey is trying to brew the most perfect tea ever to bring to our father who has retired to his room.

By now, everyone is so accustomed to my going off alone in the house that no one even blinks when I slip away to my own little space. We're all coping in our own ways, and there's nothing unusual about that. I make some good noises of continuing my work on my current project – a cupboard for April – but eventually give up. After all, I'll never finish it tonight, and then it won't matter anymore.

I listen through the house as Raph comes in, panting and exhausted, and stalks off to bed. Mikey fiddles with something in the kitchen area before he joins him. As the house quiets, I can hear Leo stop outside my door as if thinking. I am cleaning my workbench anyway, so I keep going while he debates knocking for a while. If he comes in, he'll see what I want him to see.

I hear him sigh before he whispers, almost too quietly to hear except I've always had exceptional hearing, "Good night, Don."

I freeze for a moment. Does Leo know what I'm planning? He's always known what I was thinking before. But if he did, wouldn't he try to stop me? I hope that means he doesn't know. It'll be easier if he doesn't know. That's why it has to be tonight. Why it has to be _now_. I couldn't stand to face them, to hear what they might say.

Leo retreats to the bedroom we technically share, though I think I can count on both hands the number of times I've slept there instead of in here since we started living in this house – my little pallet serves me well enough on the nights I don't fall asleep at my workbench itself. I wait patiently, allowing plenty of time for my troubled family to find their own sleep. There's no shortage of things to do while I'm waiting, after all. I clean the whole room, leaving my half-finished projects neatly stored together with the schematics and supplies meant for them. The far wall of the room had always been arranged to hold my spare weapons and ninja equipment, but most of it had lived in my belt and my pouches. Now I empty everything out and hang up each and every piece after carefully cleaning and oiling them. Arrayed like that, my _shurikens_ are oddly pretty.

I look over my books with a critical eye, eventually only selecting those whose contents I don't have completely memorized or those I have marked up so much they are entirely different texts now. These I store in my ever-present shoulder-bag. I also sort through all my alchemical supplies and items, carefully setting out anything my brothers might be able to use with the books that explain them. Everything too advanced or too dangerous for my family, or specific only to me, I add to the bag.

When the room is more spotless than it was before we moved in, I stand still for a moment. Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to abandon my family in the dead of night and give myself over to this Beast in my father's stead?

Maybe the better question is – can I do anything else?

If I pass through the house, I could pick up some provisions or my bo, which I left by the door as always. But no, if I go that way, they might hear me. And who needs provisions or weaponry when they are walking out to die? I don't want to take food from my family when I won't need it soon.

I should leave them a note, but I can't think of anything to say. "Thanks for being my family but I have to go die now?" "It's better this way?" Ugh. Cliché. Then it hits me.

My fingers hesitate of their own accord when I reach for the knot at the back of my bandana. This purple mask has been a part of my identity since before I can remember. The mask itself has changed several times after being damaged or stained, but I have always worn one. Even amongst ourselves, we're never without them, not even in sleep. They're part of a set, a matched set of four.

Not anymore.

The mask slips from around my eyes and there's something awful and cold about the moment of sheer nakedness on my skin that follows. I stare at it in the firelight for a long moment. I can practically see my whole life lived in the purple hue. But that life is over now. My life is over now. I fold it up very, very carefully and set it before the little candle that sits in my shrine to Master Yoshi. I close my eyes in prayer for a moment, and rise feeling steady.

Four steps to the window. It opens soundlessly, a rush of warm air extinguishing everything but the coals of my little fireplace, which, I know by long experience will cool on their own without me to build them up again. I grip the roof with my right arm and carefully let myself out so I dangle from the roof's edge. With my left hand, I ease the window closed. I could drop to the ground from here, but then I'd squish the vegetable garden, and I'd hate to crush the melons Mikey has worked so hard to cultivate. So I walk my hands along the roof's edge to the corner where a good swing will send me clear into the yard.

I land with a roll, the shoulder-bag tucked under one arm, as silent as I had ever landed a roll in my life. I look at the stable for a few moments before I shake my head to myself. As much as I would rather have Professor to ride, I can't bring him on a suicide mission with me. No one else should have to die for me. And the stable doors squeak like a pig being slaughtered, so I have to turn away without even saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye.

Oh, ancestors. My heart suddenly surges with pain. I may not be committing _seppuku_ , but this is as close as I'm going to get. I actually tremble for a moment as I wonder if my courage will fail me. But it doesn't. I can do this. I can walk into those Woods and disappear. I can turn away and never see the ones I love again. Never know if Mikey has mastered that new bread recipe. Never know how many times Raph has beat Casey in their bouts. Never know if April and Casey actually admit their feelings to one another. Never know if Leo ever learns to relax. Never know when Master Splinter follows Master Yoshi into the beyond.

I will pave the way for him myself.

But before I go, I take up a sharp stick from the ground and begin inscribing a truly large sigil, wider than two strides across and three high. I put it right between the house and the dojo and forg, in the near center of our property. When the last graceful curve of the symbol is drawn, I put both my hands down on it. With all the strength of my conviction, I command it to life.

The sigil flashes brightly once, before disappearing completely into the dirt.

"Be safe," I whisper. That symbol is powerful, more powerful than any I ever dared use before because it is simply too strong to put on something tiny like a sword or helmet. A kitchen can't contain a volcano. But the earth is big enough. I'm not quite sure – the symbol will definitely protect our cottage and the dojo and the area around both. Maybe the whole town. But at least my family will be safe by my last act as one of them.

I rise and walk out into the forest. I don't look back.

-==OOO==-

I head north. Not for any particular love of the northerly direction, but because it seems to make the most sense. Master Splinter emerged from the north after his visit to the Beast, so that suggests north is a good place to start. Plus, the back of our house faces to the north, so this keeps me from having to circle the whole village and risking being seen.

I am immediately glad for all the extra training I've been doing with my brothers lately. Two years ago I might not have been able to move soundlessly through a summer forest of crinkly leaves and dry sticks, but tonight I am silent like the clouds overhead. It doesn't take me more than a few steps before I realize that there is virtually no sound at all in the forest. I always knew we had few birds or squirrels or other critters, but tonight it is eerily devoid of any animal noises. I remember what Master Splinter said about The Woods belonging to the Beast, and I wonder if maybe all the other creatures have learned not to risk his attention at night. Urk. That's not comforting.

I'm not here to be comforted, I remind myself firmly. I'm here to complete what I began more than a year ago and finally regain my honor by paying for my crimes with my life. It shouldn't matter that my stomach is twisted in knots and my heartbeat sounds unbelievably loud in my ears. Okay, I'm scared. But I'm also relieved. Finally the Hamato Clan will be honorable again. My brothers won't see it that way, of course, but they are kinder than they should be. My sense of justice is finally satisfied.

A branch snags on my shoulder-bag. I draw it free silently and consider. I brought the bag not because I expect to need it – I'm here to die, after all – but because it contains all the knowledge that is too dangerous to leave lying around, and I'd had no way to destroy it all. All my books have been long since warded against normal damage from things like fire and water because my lab was not always the safest place for parchment after all. Destroying them takes time and preparation, or a whole lot of power. I figure I can hide the bag somewhere out here in the Woods before I meet the Beast. Then nobody will find my books and the knowledge in them will be safe. Drop it now? No, not yet. A little farther from town, just to be sure.

How long have I been walking, anyway? I have no idea. It feels like not a lot of time, but I'm now in a forest so thick I can't even smell the smoke that rises from the village chimneys at all times, and by my calculations, that scent should be detectable for at least a few miles. Well, from Master Splinter's story, I'm expecting there to be some kind of sorcery involved here, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I've never met a sorcerer before. At least I won't be bored in my last moments.

This thought is just crossing my mind and winning a tiny smile of amusement – yes, I can make myself laugh just fine without even Mikey to help, not that he'd ever believe it – when darkness swallows me. I literally cannot even see myself. I hold perfectly still, waiting.

"You are a son of Splinter," a voice rumbles all around me.

"Yes," I answer back, and I'm pleased my voice doesn't shake. "I have come in my father's stead to fulfill his bargain."

"I gave Splinter a month before his debt was to be paid," the voice replies. Ancestors, that is _not_ a friendly voice at all. And it sounds like it comes from a huge mouth. And a huge stomach. Great.

"Yes," I say. "But my father would not have permitted me to come if he had known of my plan. And…" I swallow against a dry throat, "I am long overdue for death. And I hate waiting." Not sure levity is called for. Mikey and Raph would be proud, though. That's something.

"So you came as soon as possible, to prevent any from stopping you from offering yourself to me. And I see that you have been badly wounded, but it appears that you have healed. Why should you yet be marked for death?"

Really? I have to tell the Beast all about my shame before he'll eat me? That seems unnecessarily cruel.

Then again, he's a Beast.

"I dishonored my Clan," I admit, and yeah, there's that ever-present ache again rising up inside. "I did the unforgivable, the unthinkable. My family is too kind-hearted to demand justice for my acts, and my brother swore that if I harmed myself to atone for my sin, he would repeat that harm on himself. But honor still demands that I pay for my crimes. And if I die at your hands, my brother will be safe."

"Very well," the voice rumbles. "Then with your surrender I accept that your father's debt to me is paid. I will trouble neither him nor your Clan nor your village."

"Thank you." I'm shaking a little. I can't help it. It took everything I had to nerve myself up to getting this far. Now I just want the Beast to end things and get it over with.

"I must tell you, there is every possibility you will die," the voice says, "but I do not intend to kill you right now."

"What?"

"But if you wish to die, you need only attack me. I am certain you will get your wish if you challenge me."

With that, the darkness melts away. I have no idea how it happened, but I'm now standing in likely the very room Master Splinter described. It is a large chamber, and I could well expect it existing in a stone castle even without the windows, but my innate senses tell me I am deep underground. I did not feel any transition, however. There is a bright, wide fireplace, lighting and warming the whole area. And in one corner stands a deep bed, piled high with furs. The rest of the room is largely barren but for two chairs.

In one of them sits the Beast.

Honestly, as I stare at him, attacking doesn't enter my mind and it has nothing to do with cowardice. I'm just…fascinated. Master Splinter may not have known the Animal that became the Beast, but clearly it is some form of crocodile or alligator – I've never seen one before, but I have seen pictures and heard stories of river and sea dwellers that resembled this. In unevolved Animal form, they are large lizards with huge jaws full of teeth that are extremely strong, fast, and dangerous. The Beast clearly has his roots in this, but he is many, many times the size of any I've ever heard of, and he, like I, appears to walk on two legs. If he were standing, my head might come up to his mid-chest. At the waist he is as thick as I, but his shoulders are easily three times as broad as my own and his jaw is correspondingly large. I have heard crocodiles can unhinge their jaw – if he did this, the Beast could take most of my head and upper body into his mouth.

I realize that what Master Splinter saw in the dark as three glowing red eyes must in fact be the two eyes one would expect in the Beast's face, and a pendant hung around his neck. But, no – it's not hung at all. It's a large stone, a handspan across, that appears embedded in the flesh of his chest. The stone isn't red, though, and it's not glowing. It's yellow, like the Beast's eyes. Other than that and a few wrappings on his feet, not unlike those I have worn if I was going to be on a great deal of uneven ground, he wears only a broad belt with many pouches and pockets. The belt is purple and my heart lurches in memory.

"Greetings," the Beast says, and his voice sure is deep and menacing even if he isn't currently coming at me.

But I will not be thought to be rude even if I have no honor, so I fold my hands before me and bow properly. "Good evening. My name is Donatello."

"As you have not attacked, may I presume you do not wish to die at this moment?"

Oh. Um. Well…I don't know? Maybe? But not really? But…

My confusion is probably writ clearly on my face, for the Beast seems to smile. At least, I can see a lot more teeth now. Eep.

"Perhaps it would be wise to wait until you are certain of your wish," the Beast says reasonably. "After all, I will still be here."

"Okay," I say hesitantly. "Then what now? I'm here, and you haven't eaten me yet."

"Eaten you?"

"You're a crocodilian," I point out. "Part of your native diet, prior to whatever brought you to this form, would include turtles, both freshwater and sea turtles. And rats, too, I guess. I assume I am at least being considered for your menu."

"No," the Beast shakes his enormous head slowly. "No, if you die at my hands, it will not be to fulfill my appetite. And if you know of crocodilians, then you also know we eat a great number of things other than turtles and rats."

"Then what…?" I start. But I don't finish the question. I'm not sure which question I want answered. What do you want from me? What _do_ you eat? What did you want with my father if he had come instead? What now? Maybe all of them.

"Young Donatello," the Beast actually lets out a breath like a sigh, "you came here expecting death. If your father correctly reported our conversation, you may note I specifically left the nature of my purpose for you unstated. I told Splinter only that your fate would be mine. As you have come in your father's stead, your life now belongs to me. We are agreed upon this."

It doesn't sound like a question, but I nod anyway. "Yes, I am yours now." Then something trickles in my stomach sickly and I add, "But even if I'm fine giving you my life, I can't call you Master. If that is a condition of my survival, you might as well go ahead and kill me now."

"No, Donatello," the Beast says. "I require your obedience and your strength, but not your allegiance. I will not take your Clan from you."

Oh, well that's okay. Except how I sort of already cut myself off from my Clan and all. I'm more ronin than ninja now. But that's neither here nor there. I nod again. "Then what is your purpose for me?"

"You have a choice to make. You may, if you wish, attack me now. If you do so, I will in all likelihood kill you. It will be a swift death after a brief battle. But it is my least preferred of our options."

"The least preferred?"

"Yes. If your fate and life is mine, then I would rather keep you as a companion. A Beast has very few with whom he can converse."

Um, that's not what I expected. The Beast wanted Master Splinter or one of us to have somebody to keep him company? I can't help it. I blurt out, "But you're a Beast. Why would you talk to me?"

"We're talking now, aren't we?"

He's got me there.

"There is something more I will ask of you, but perhaps it is too much for a first meeting," the Beast says. "If you have decided that your fate belonging to me is enough for your honor, and it may yet be a death sentence for you, then this will be our beginning."

He rises and walks to the wall. It looks like stonework to me, but when he touches it with his broad hand, a door appears. "Do you require anything?"

"No," I say. Then, though, I think better of it. "If I'm staying, I'll need to eat eventually."

"Yes. In the morning, I will return and I will bring you something."

He turns to me and pins me with his yellow eyes. They do glow a little, I guess. It's hard to look away.

"Tomorrow, we will speak some more. Until then, it is imperative that you do not venture from this room no matter what cause you may have. In here you are safe. Do not attempt to leave."

Ooh, boy, his eyes look like they're burning. And…actually…are they turning orange? I take a half-step back and the Beast turns away from me and exits through the door with speed that would make Mikey jealous. I can't help but walk to the wall, though, and feel around the stones. No, seriously, there was a door here a moment ago. Where is it? How does that even work? The stonework looks utterly solid. I knock – sounds solid, too. What the shell?

Well, I'm sure I could put my mind to it and break out of here, but that would also be breaking my word. My life isn't my own anymore. It belongs to the Beast. If he chooses to spare it, that's his affair. He told me to stay put, so I'll stay.

I look back around the room. Unlike the wall – or door? – it hasn't changed at all. There is still the big bed and the two chairs and not a lot else. I suppose I ought to sleep, but I really don't think I can. My heart is still pounding and, if I'm honest with myself, I'm really unsettled. I thought I'd be dead now.

I walk over towards the fireplace and pull a cushion off one of the chairs to plop it on the floor. I sink down on that, facing the bright flames.

I'm not dead. The Beast didn't kill me.

Now what?

-==OOO==-

I fall asleep at some point. My brain has a way of chasing itself around and around a problem until I get dizzy with it and drop into meditation, but this time I think I'm asleep. That would explain the dreaming. I can see our house as the dawn rises in the sky above and like a bird landing on the ledge I peek into a bedroom. It's the one I shared with Leo. He's sitting on the bed, looking at his hands. He looks very sad.

"You didn't have to do this, Don. But I should have known. You found the one way to end this where I couldn't follow you."

I realize he's looking at me and I feel the need to run. I bolt to the side and look in the window of the room Raph and Mikey share. Mikey is curled against Raph, and I think he's crying. Raph rubs his shell. He sighs and for once doesn't seem angry at all when he speaks. More...lost.

"I was waiting for you out in the stable. I never figured you'd leave your horse behind. It's my fault. I should have stopped you."

Against his shoulder, Mikey hiccups. "Please don't go, Donnie. Please don't leave us."

I recoil and rise higher, to where I am peeking in the one tiny window up in the attic. I can see Master Splinter sitting in a meditative pose, but he's looking straight at me.

"My son. I'm so sorry."

My eyes snap open. I'm curled up on the flagstone before the fireplace using the chair cushion as a pillow. Definitely a dream. But probably not totally unexpected. Of course I'd dream of them now that I'll never see them again. As I sit up, I notice that my cushion is wet. Oh. And my face is wet. Shell.

No. I'm here now. And if my being here will restore the honor of the Hamato Clan and will atone for my wrongdoing, I'm not going to start it with weakness. I stand up abruptly, maybe too abruptly because everything feels wrong and I sway a little before my head clears. I pick up the cushion, shake it to reshape it, and put it back on the chair. All I can do now is be the best I can be at whatever the Beast wants with me. I will never see my family again, but if I'm going to dream about them, I at least want to be able to face them honestly. I want to be able to dream of them being proud of me.

The one good thing is that all this strangeness has left me placid and quiet inside. Even the normal tug of my shame and guilt is dimmed now. I suspect the surprise at being here at all, plus being alive, is filtering slowly through me. I'm uncommonly collected and it takes almost no will to put all feeling aside and focus on the practical things.

So I settle into the huge bed. But I don't sleep much now. This bed was definitely where Master Splinter was. I can smell him here still. I toss and turn for a long time until my inner rhythm tells me it's near dawn. Which, maybe it is. Who knows in this crazy place where stones become doors? But my body thinks it's morning. And it won't be at ease unless I do what I must.

I get up, carefully making the bed, and no, I don't think one bit about that familiar smell of my father and sensei who was here so recently. Not one bit. I stride back into the wide room and place myself in a clear area where I'm well away from the chairs. I breathe slowly a few times until I feel centered and still. Then I begin the morning routines. If I concentrate, I can almost feel my brothers around me doing the same motions, the same forms. But they aren't here and never will be. I finish the kata alone.

But not alone! Gah! Hi Beast!

Thankfully, I react much more calmly on the outside. I bow to the very unexpected company in the room. The Beast is standing in the far corner, watching me. I have no idea how long he's been here. You'd think a highly-trained ninja would notice these things. Especially giant Beasts entering the room through magic doors. Apparently I was thinking about my brothers too much. Lesson learned, then.

"Good morning, Donatello," he says evenly in that still-intimidating voice.

"Good morning," I reply.

"I apologize if I startled you," the Beast sounds almost contrite. Yeah, you definitely startled me!

But I just smile a little and say, "I am in your domain. I should be the one apologizing for not being aware of your presence."

"Did the training soothe your mind?" the Beast asks me. I'm not expecting that and I reply honestly.

"Mostly. Although I still miss my family." Then I rub my beak awkwardly.

"I imagine you must," the Beast says, nodding. It's almost gentle how he looks now. "And I thank you for your calm acceptance of our bargain. I am sorry you must be parted from those you love to fulfill it."

If I answer him, I run the risk of breaking the fragile hold I have over my emotions, so I just nod back. I see now that there is a table between the two chairs by the fireplace that wasn't there before. It holds a silver platter littered with food. I study it and find myself frowning.

"How do you _do_ that, anyway?" I ask.

"If you come to join me, I will tell you," the Beast answers. He sits in the same chair from last night, leaving me the other across from him. I walk over and sit, looking at the loaded tray.

"It is quite safe," the Beast assures me.

Yeah, I wasn't worried about that. I was more curious about where it came from. But I take a plate and begin to eat heartily. The Beast and I don't look at one another as we eat – I'm not sure how I'd feel seeing that half-chicken disappear into his enormous jaws.

"So, Donatello," the Beast says as we both finish, "I know you have questions. I am certain you have heard the terrible tales of the monster who rules these Woods, of the swift death he brings to all who trespass."

I nod.

"And I see by your face that you have concluded that he and I are one in the same, and yet I have not harmed you. I am aware of your curious nature. I assume you are intrigued."

"Yes," I answer, and I duck my head respectfully, "but it is not my place to ask."

"There you are wrong, Donatello," the Beast replies. "This is not one of the tales you have doubtless read. I will keep a few secrets from you, but only for your own safety. Ask what you will and I will answer if I can."

Oh, the pressure of coming up with a good question to ask! I pause for a moment, and then settle on, "Why didn't you kill my sensei? And what do you want from me?"

"Ah," the Beast leans back with a small smile – yikes, more teeth! – in his chair. "Right to the heart of the matter. If you will permit me, I will tell you a brief story."

I sit back also with my warm mug of tea to listen.

"Long, long ago, I was an Animal not unlike yourself. I had no Lord to serve and no Clan to protect, but I strove for justice and honor. And one day…something truly terrible happened."

At this he looks away and I fill up with sympathy. He looks about the way I feel, actually.

"The details are not important. What matters is that I was cursed, and I only survived because of this." He touches the large stone embedded in his chest. "I fled my homeland and traveled as far as I could. This land was empty then, so I made my home here, in the hope that I could live quietly. But, of course, that was foolish. People came and claimed land as their own, and in time we learned to tolerate one another. But the curse remains, and so do I."

I wait. I can see him putting his thoughts in order.

"It pains me to reveal the nature of my curse, and yet I cannot answer your two very fair questions without it. Understand that whence it came is not nearly as important as its existence."

Yeah, I get that.

"This stone is a powerful magical artifact. It alone is the reason I am able to speak with you now, and it is the reason you still live. It is the only temporary relief I may have."

I look at it more closely. I want to touch it, but not enough to get anywhere near all those teeth so I hold still. It's a dull yellow now. Wasn't it bright yellow last night? Almost orange?

"I am possessed of a great burden, Donatello," the Beast says. "Imagine if you will my form increased in size and rage until every story you have ever heard of the Beast of The Wood pales in comparison. That is my alternate nature. A rampaging, mindless, violent savage. Unstoppably strong, beyond reason or mercy. A bringer of painful, bloody death to any that meet me."

"But…" I begin. Then my brain catches up and I draw a conclusion. "The amulet?"

"Yes," the Beast nods, following my thoughts. "It helps me keep that Beast contained sometimes. It cannot hold against all rage, however, and sometimes I become the Beast of the legend. If I keep my mind clear and my heart at ease, I remain myself much longer. But if anger or fear clouds me, the Beast will rise. And sometimes the Beast will rise anyway, no matter what I do. And when the Beast inhabits me, I know nothing of what I will do or have done until I return to myself."

He looks at me with a quiet stillness. "Of all the warriors I have ever faced, either as myself or as the Beast, none has ever harmed me, nor escaped me. And yet, your father proved, if not a match for me, at least capable of defending himself. He also drew me deep into my own world here, which, as you have concluded, is underground. Because of his interference, I did not seek death on the surface the night he was here. I returned to myself before the Beast had killed him and realized in one such as he might lie my salvation."

"You need a sparring partner?" I ask. Then I shake my head. "No, you need a guardian. Someone who can hold you off when you rage so you don't hurt someone else. That's why you wanted Master Splinter or one of his sons. You've faced samurai before, but they would never have the speed or inventiveness to keep you engaged. A ninja might, though."

"Precisely." He smiles and this time the teeth don't make me shiver. "I may look a monster, but I do not wish to lose myself to rage without a keeper to protect the world from me. It has taken me decades to train the Beast to leave the villages alone. But more people come into my Woods every day. Sooner or later the Beast will react. My own territorial nature is badly exaggerated when I transform."

"So, when you aren't the Beast, who are you?" I ask. "What is your true name?"

"I no longer know it," he says sadly. "It was lost in my terrible error, never to be recovered."

"Well, I've got to call you something," I reply, and I feel a smile warming my face. "If I'm going to help you keep the Beast at bay, I've got to be able to talk to you without invoking him. I can't just yell 'hey you' all the time."

"You understand, then?" he asks me, concern clear in his face. "You will be my companion and ally, and when my rage comes, or when I cannot hold it back and the curse takes me, you will fend me off, keep me contained, distract and harry me until I return to my senses?"

"Yes," I say, and oddly, I feel better about things. This is a task I can undertake with a clear conscience. I'll still be protecting my family, and I'll atone for my dishonor by service and, probably eventually, by my death. "For as long as I can. That's why you said you might kill me someday but you didn't want to last night. Because as the Beast, you might defeat me. But until that happens, I understand and I agree to help you."

His relief is so clear, it's hard for me to reconcile the look in his eyes with the monster Master Splinter described. But I'm sure if I wait long enough, I'll see that part for myself, too. That'll be an interesting moment.

"But," I say, holding up one finger. "I still need a name for you. Names matter. If _you_ aren't the Beast, you have to be someone. I don't want to think of you and the Beast as the same anymore. It'll be easier for me to fight you as the Beast if I know _you_ by a different name."

"Give me a name, then," he says. "I care not. I have no one and nothing but you to tie me to anything, so, if names matter as you suggest, choose one that matters for you."

Oh. Um. Huh.

"I'm not very good at this," I admit. "My brother Mikey's better. He'd have a bunch of ideas already." I furrow my brow and start thinking aloud. "Um. Gator. Nah, too obvious. Crocky? No, forget that, that's awful. Boots?" I actually start giggling. "I think these are getting worse."

"I concur."

The seriousness of his answer makes me giggle harder. Maybe all this pent-up worry could pick a different time to spill out, but I keep going. "Scaley? Scaleyshoes? No, you don't wear shoes. Bumpy?"

At that one, he starts to laugh, too. "Perhaps choose a better adjective to describe me than 'bumpy,' if you would."

"Okay," I am still giggling – why am I still giggling? – and I regard him as if assessing the tensile strength of a new piece of iron. "Toothy? Ginormous?"

"I refuse to be known as 'Ginormous,' Donatello." He's really grinning now, and I don't know why it's so funny, but it is. "You're correct – you're _not_ very good at this."

"I know," I laugh. "When I named my horse, I figured out what was in his head and it went from there. But my horse got named Professor, which really is a stupid name even for a really smart horse. At least I didn't do what Mikey did and name him Klunk, or something pretentious like Leo with Virtues of Bushido."

"I would prefer neither of those names, indeed." How can his voice be so serious and deadpan and his face so smiley?

"If I go with your head," I tip my own head as I consider, "I'm going to say Leatherhead."

"That," he snorts, "is a vast improvement over either Ginormous or Scaleyshoes. Let's settle on Leatherhead and be done with it."

"Okay." I manage to gulp to stop my giggles and stand up. I fold my hands and bow. "It's nice to meet you, Leatherhead. My name is Hamato Donatello, but you can call me Don or Donnie if you want. It's what my family and friends do, except when they want to yell at me."

I'm still joking around, but there's something really serious in his face now, and my own smile fades.

"I'm sorry for laughing, if…" I start, but he waves at me.

"Oh no, do not apologize for that. It's just that I haven't felt so…not alone in a very long time." Leatherhead's smile has grown sad. "I did not realize having a name would mean so much."

He glances down and his eyes widen in surprise. I follow the line of his gaze and realize he's looking at the amulet on his chest. When he entered, it was a pale, dull yellow. Now it seems more green than anything else. My mind leaps to comprehension.

"As the amulet turns red, you turn into the Beast, right?" I ask. "So right now, being named, you're…farther from the Beast than you were before?"

"That's correct," he answers. "And if this is the effect of your presence on me, then perhaps we both have less to fear."

I don't know what to say to that, so I fidget a little awkwardly.

"Now," he rises. "There is much to do and little time in which to do it. While you have soothed the anger in my heart, it will return. It will always return," he says bitterly. "You must be prepared."

He moves to the wall and beckons. I join him. I still keep a bit of a healthy distance, one eye on the amulet, but I'm a lot less afraid of Leatherhead himself. He's just…really big. And imposing. And he still has lots of teeth. I don't feel particularly bad about being cautious, and if the lack of change in the amulet's hue is any indication, Leatherhead isn't bothered by it, either.

"You know that you are quite deep underground, correct?" I nod. "There is a vast network of tunnels and rooms and places here, most of which I have dug myself in the last decades to give me plenty of room in which to run. The tunnels fill the area, almost to Liberty and well north of the last town on the road. I have only the map in my mind, but I believe you will learn to navigate them well in little time."

Now his eyes land on me with more seriousness and I feel a sudden tension.

"Donatello, answer me honestly. I have seen the marks on your hands and I know what you carried with you into The Woods in that bag," he glances to where I had set it along one wall. "Are you an alchemist?"

He looks so concerned – is this when I meet the Beast? But I lift my chin and face him squarely. "Yes."

"Ah." He looks relieved. "Then you shall be able to do this yourself. It would be more awkward did I have to teach you everything from the beginning."

As I watch, he sketches a sigil on the stone before him. It's a sigil I know well, but he adds a flourish to it I've never seen before. When he finishes the mark, the brick shifts to nothingness, and other bricks around it begin to disappear as well. Oh! I get it! That last flourish commands the stone to be unmade temporarily, and gives the person writing it the ability to spread the effect at their will. That's how he made the door!

The stone is gone for a few moments before it slowly fades back into existence, bringing with it those around it. I lean forward eagerly. "Can I try?"

"Yes, please," Leatherhead says cheerfully. "You will want to be able to leave this room, after all."

I repeat the sigil, and as I make the added flourish, I can feel the wall as if it is "listening" to me. I bend my will and the brick disappears, then another, and soon there's a doorway wide enough for both of us to pass through. I can feel the wall pulling, though – that which is does not easily cease to be, and it tries to return – so I release the wall from my will and it reforms.

"That is awesome!" I exclaim brightly. I turn to Leatherhead eagerly, whose face is curling into an amused smile. "So you're an alchemist, too? Do you have a lab? Can I see it?"

Yes, I know. I look and sound and feel exactly like an eager puppy. Whatever. There's nobody to see me but Leatherhead and I can't help it anyway. Finally, _finally_ I might have met someone more skilled than myself! Finally I might be able to learn from a teacher instead of by trial and error!

Leatherhead throws back his head and laughs, his amulet fully green.

"Come, Donatello. Allow me to show you."

-==OOO==-

And so passes my first morning in the subterranean domain of Leatherhead. He shows me some of the tunnels closest to this room, which he deems my room now. There is one that leads to a lab three times the size of April's public house, absolutely stuffed with equipment and books and materials. My fingers positively itch to dive into that world, to learn and read and experiment. Leatherhead encourages my interest, and he even gives me permission to take anything I wish back down the tunnel to my room to peruse at my leisure. Unfortunately for me, I can't carry that many books at once.

But by the ancestors, I try.

Then I follow Leatherhead to where the food comes from. Apparently, it's just another extension of his alchemy. There's a kitchen set up that has already been heavily worked and inscribed. By commanding the tables and the fire and a large, black bowl, anything can be brought into existence, and because of the generations of work and energy here, the food created from nothingness will be "real" as if it had been picked from a tree or grown in a garden. But it only works for things like plants and spices and liquids. It won't work for meat or anything produced from animals.

For that, Leatherhead leads me to a cave where he appears to have acquired over the years every single stray livestock animal that ever wandered away from its barn or paddock or coop into The Woods. He has enough for several farms here, all tended by water troughs that refill and clean themselves, pans of feed that never go empty, and grass that always regrows even without sunlight.

"But you must take care," he warns me. "When I become the Beast, this chamber is very tempting. It is therefore keyed to be locked and only a sigil, like the one in your room, will open the wall. I will teach it to you, but you must never let me in here as the Beast, or I shall frighten my poor creatures and likely kill them all."

Sobering reminder, yup. Got it. I learn the sigil.

"Does your lab need to be protected from you as well?" I ask.

"No," Leatherhead says. "Even in a rage, the Beast will not enter there. He fears it."

"Why?" I ask without thinking. Then my brain catches up. "Oh. The curse. The Beast remembers."

"Yes."

With that, Leatherhead leads me down a long, rough corridor. I can see the evidence of slashes and claw marks on the walls and floor – and ceiling! Eep! Leatherhead's amulet is a dull yellow again.

"This tunnel leads to a maze I built long ago," he says. "The Beast has never learned it, so I try to trap myself here when I turn. You must learn the labyrinth yourself so you can guide me through it."

We walk it twice, and I wouldn't say I have it memorized, but I have a good sense for it. I also realize that the maze is full of dark, tiny corners and crevasses, places I can hide if I ever need it. But it makes me curious, so as we are making our way out, I ask something that has troubled me since I realized how deep underground we are.

"How does the Beast escape here?" I look at Leatherhead. "It obviously takes alchemy to get down here. The Beast can't do alchemy."

"No," he agrees, "but you see, unfortunately it is most often on the surface that I become the Beast. And…there is something else."

He stops beside a large wall down another corridor from the maze. My eyes get really wide. It's one massive alchemical spell, bigger than the one I cast outside our house before leaving. The symbols dance before me, and it takes me a few minutes to interpret them all. Leatherhead waits.

Oh.

Oh, yeah, that would be the problem.

"You see?" he asks.

"Yes," I nod. "The whole area, the land itself, is yours, literally. The power of your curse was too big for you to contain, and the amulet could only do so much, so you poured some of the energy here. But that means that the land actually answers you. The way my weapons do for my brothers. It's not that I gave Leo's swords life exactly, but they have enough energy in them to almost have a will of their own when triggered. His swords would move of their own accord to save his life if it were needed. This is that, but on a much bigger scale."

"If the Beast demands to be let out to the surface, the land will open a path to me," Leatherhead confirms. "I have tried many times to prevent it, but I can't seem to draw back this spell once cast. If I could, I would contain myself and the Beast down here for all time. But while the Beast cannot manage the complicated sigils that guard specific rooms, his will is strong enough to command the land to bend to him. And when the Beast runs free, people die."

"I understand," I say softly.

"I'm glad," Leatherhead says. "Now, you must go and eat and rest. I know you did not sleep much last night. And," he looks at his chest mournfully, "if I continue as usual, I will need your help before the next dawn."

I can see what he means. There's orange light swirling in the amulet on his chest, and his eyes seem to be brighter, too. I gulp.

"Donatello," Leatherhead says softly, "for what it is worth, I do not wish to kill you. I do not wish to harm you or anyone. If I do," he ducks his head and his voice is so mournful and pained I feel it in my own heart, "I beg you to forgive me. Should it happen, I am so sorry."

I touch his arm gently. "It's okay. I understand. It's my honor to help you if I can, for as long as I can."

But then the orange light begins to throb more brightly and we both look up in surprise.

"Donatello!"

Oh, shell. Leatherhead's voice is getting deeper and much scarier, and his eyes are orange now. And…yup, Master Splinter was right. He's definitely growing in size.

"Leatherhead, can't you fight it?" I try.

"I…cannot. To the maze, quickly!"

We take off down the tunnel, his footfalls getting heavier and heavier with every step. When I reach the entrance, I turn back. "Leatherhead, what if—"

Only the Beast remains.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to SafirDraak who felt compelled to draw this and I can't help but share it!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to tell you, I had so much fun writing this chapter. I giggled the whole time.
> 
> Enjoy!

 Oh shell oh shell oh shell oh shell…

The Beast is absolutely huge. Ginormous would have been a fair name for him, too. His eyes glow and the amulet glows and he's at least twice the size of Leatherhead now.

Eep! And twice as fast!

A massive claw scrapes just inches from my beak and it's pure reflex that I step backwards enough to evade. The Beast roars and the very walls shake. I need a plan and _fast_. Right, the maze. Well, I sure hope I know my way around! I need him to follow me, though. Okay. I can do this.

I grab onto the Beast's forearm, which is still swinging back and forth as he rages mindlessly, and just give it a good, hard yank. It's a little silly, but the action distinctly gets the Beast's full attention. His eyes lock on me and it doesn't take any conscious thought for my body to start running. I'm sprinting all out – I would make Leo really proud at this pace – and the Beast lopes after me disturbingly easily. I duck into the maze and dodge to a sharp left. It is amazingly dark down here. The rest of the caverns have been lit by candles or torches or lamps. After the first turn of the maze, there's only a few lights at major intersections of the maze and otherwise nothing. My eyes adjust to the gloom as I pelt off into a darker section.

But it's a delicate balance. I have to keep the Beast following me, not just run away and hide which, honestly, is all my instincts want me to do. My brothers and I haven't been able to fit in our shells for years; we're built wrongly for it now as Animals. But I'm still a turtle, and turtles hide to wait out danger. Apparently today I'm just a ninja, though, because when I get two turns ahead of the Beast and he stops for a moment, I backtrack to pop my head around the bend long enough for him to spot me and continue his pursuit.

Um, am I imagining it, or is the Beast getting quicker? Oh, shell, he totally is. And bigger, too. My brain starts speculating without any urging on my part that the amulet that constrains the curse slowly fails rather than all at once, so there's no telling how bad this will get until it's over. I was wondering how the Beast managed to get claw marks that high on the wall – now I know. Shell, he's big!

And fast!

Massive jaws snap so close to my head, if I'd been wearing my bandana the tails would have been caught. I put on a new burst of speed, but I can tell now that running won't be enough. He's just too fast. I need another way of evading him.

Come, on Donnie! You're a ninja! Act like it!

It feels like Leo shouting at me in the practice ring and a part of my mind snaps into place as I throw myself into a proper leap. The deep gouges in the walls of the maze are more than adequate for me to cling to, and now I'm crawling along the corridors, leaping from one side to the other with the agility of a rabbit. The Beast bellows anew and reaches for my foot. I spring off again, this time adding a flip in the middle of the air so I can come down with my shell to the wall.

I crouch there, toes digging into one crack while I cling on both sides with my hands, and take a breath, all the time the Beast will give me. Leatherhead never told me how he returns to himself, only that he does eventually. I have no idea this will last. Minutes? Hours? Days? Please not days. It's only been a few minutes and I'm starting to run out of ideas.

Suddenly my brain halts and I think of something else.

I could die here.

If I tried to attack the Beast rather than evade him, I'm sure I'd hold out for a little while before I'd eventually make a mistake and fall. And then I'd be done. It would be over. My pain and my guilt and my shame would end, and my honor would be restored at last. I'd have the one thing I want.

Too long thinking!

The Beast grabs for me and I can't move fast enough. He gets my ankle. On instinct, I use his grip as a pivot point and swing my other foot into the side of his face. I can feel my skin part where it hits his razor-sharp teeth, but the momentum is all on my side now and his head tips to the side. As his balance shifts, I keep spinning, breaking his hold on my ankle without breaking my ankle too, and I drop to the ground. The Beast overbalances badly and crashes into the wall awkwardly.

I should just stand here. He'll recover his balance and he'll come at me and it will end.

I should just let it end.

But I think suddenly of Leatherhead's apology, right before he changed.

I think about _his_ guilt and _his_ sorrow.

I can't help it – I imagine what he would find when he returned to himself, my broken body destroyed and torn apart. Oh, _ancestors_. Thanks for that grisly image, brain.

And I can't do it.

I can't give up and die here, not because I want to live, but because I can't do that to _him_. I can't leave Leatherhead with that. I can't be another burden on his conscience. No matter what it means for me, I can't do that to him.

Okay then. New plan.

My resolve settles around me like the strongest armor ever. Game on, Beast.

The Beast shoves at the wall as if it personally offended him, for a moment forgetting I'm here. I can fix that. I sweep my leg to kick a rock into his face. Yup, that got his attention all right. For a moment, he's frozen, staring at me, eyes and amulet red and dark and glowing with a blood-like hue. Then he lunges and I'm off.

I duck down a few turns, so glad the Beast has carved up all sorts of interesting shapes on these walls – they give me something that helps me orient myself to my mental map. That one mark, like a crescent moon over a big slash near one of the few lit torches, I remember that. I dodge to the left, where I know the path gets extremely narrow. The Beast follows, still bellowing wordlessly in rage. I stay just out of reach, keeping him utterly focused on me. When we hit the narrow part of the corridor, I jump to the wall. The Beast charges at me, and his shoulders get lodged in the small space. I swing on the wall until I'm well within his grabbing range, but his arms are pinned. I drop most of my body weight onto his upper back, pushing him even deeper into the narrow spot. His chest is too round and broad for him to be able to maneuver easily. Another kick – yes! He's stuck!

I don't expect it to last long, though. I probably have a minute at the very most before he either works loose or tears down a wall. That's okay. I don't need much more than that.

I slip behind the Beast and run back to the fork with the moon shape. Right around the corner is the remains of something, maybe a box, maybe some attempt at a wooden cage – I'm not sure. Doesn't matter. There's wood here. One long, wide board is the right heft, but the wrong shape.

Desperate times, I guess.

I scratch the world's quickest sigil onto the board with my fingernail and reach up for the torch that burns above my head. I wrap my right hand around the metal ring that holds it together and its searing heat is a surprise after the cold of the maze, but I ignore it. I send the energy of the whole torch – the current flame, the potential for fire in the rest of the wood of its handle, the combustive power of the thick pitch, even the radiating heat and smoke – down my arm to the board. The torch blazes like a fireball for one moment before disintegrating to ash in my hand. The heat and energy flow through me to the board, where it seizes onto the sigil I drew. As the board is violently reformed into a staff, the metal ring that had been at the crown of the torch, now melted into liquid metal, wraps itself around the wood in a spiral to shape and strengthen it. The whole process takes only the space of two or three breaths, and I end with a nice new bo with a supporting ribbon of metal hugging it from end to end.

I can hear the Beast still fighting his confinement, and I dash back into that corridor long enough to shove with the end of the bo to drive him forward again. Gah! That was _loud_ , Beast! Do that again and I might go permanently deaf, you know! Not that you care how loud you roar at present, I guess.

Well, I've got a bo, which will help, but I don't think this makeshift thing is going to hold out very long. I need something else. Think! What else can I bring to bear against the Beast?

" _A true ninja is a master of himself and his environment_."

Thanks Master Splinter! I can't believe I forgot how often sensei says that in the dojo. Good thing it came back to me now. Right. The land might be tied to the Beast, but Leatherhead proved that some parts can be isolated by alchemy. Something like a room with a lock is way too elaborate for the amount of time I have, but if I find the right possibility I can still manage something. Not all my alchemy is painstakingly slow.

Good thing too – here he comes!

The Beast has managed to crack the walls of that corridor to loosen himself, and he barrels out of the narrow spot, eyes more red than I've seen them yet. They're almost turning black. That's probably not a good sign.

I don't give him time to charge me, instead levying a strike to the tip of his snout with my bo. I don't know a lot about crocodilians, but I bet they're sensitive there. Plus the eyes and ears like any other creatures. But the snout is way out here, and the eyes are all the way behind those teeth. Snout it is. The Beast actually recoils from my blow and screams in what I think is surprise and pain. I hit him there again, just to be sure. It feels a little stupid, like bopping a misbehaving dog for making a mess in the dojo, but if it works, I'll take it!

The Beast recovers, though, and now he's really, really, _really_ mad! Time to run! I use the bo to launch myself backwards, putting a good margin between me and him and giving me the momentum to keep leaping down the nearest path. I'm not sure where this one leads, but hopefully I'll come upon something that will help. I take a sharp turn, and the Beast actually knocks down a part of the wall itself when he tries to follow. His body's scales, which I can see in the dim light as we rush past a few lone flames, have darkened to almost black along his shoulders and back, instead of the oddly pale grey they were when I met Leatherhead. I wonder if his scales actually change their composition when he becomes the Beast. I can't figure out how else he could get so big, either. The laws of magic should prohibit it.

Too much thinking! I miss a jump and get a nasty gouge down my good arm for my slowness. Jump, Donnie! Move! Okay, ow. That's going to make fighting a lot harder. The blood is slipping down my elbow now, and I know without looking that it's going to hurt like shell every time I try my little pole-vaulting technique.

New idea, new idea, new idea. Any time now!

Yikes!

I have to stop fast to keep from careening into a wall. Shell! It's a dead end. Emphasis on the dead, maybe. It's dark down here – I didn't realize this corridor just ended after that last turn. I start backwards, but the Beast is already here. I'm trapped!

The Beast's eyes and amulet are a bright ruby red now. Wait, that's a brighter red than they were before. Is it possible the rage is almost over? Can I hold out that long? Better question – do I have a choice? Not really.

Right then.

I settle into a defensive stance. The Beast actually pauses for a moment before charging me. I strike hard with the bo, getting him right in the snout again. Take that! But I don't celebrate – I don't have time. I'm already turning the strike into a block of that vicious tail. The Beast's tail is easily as long as my body, and thicker at the base. It's like fighting the Beast and also a nasty serpent at the same time. I dodge the incoming claws and block the tail again, looking for an opening.

Kick. Feint. Block. Spin-strike. Dodge. Overhand blow. Roll. My world narrows to the battle alone.

But another part of my brain knows I'm not making any progress. I'm surviving, but every step backward puts me closer and closer to the wall. Soon enough I won't have room to maneuver. Incoming! Block-oh shell!

Ow. My head. I blink at the roaring in my ears. No, not roaring in my ears. Real roaring. The Beast is looming over me. I'm on my plastron in the corner. Nowhere to go.

Am I seeing things? No, that's not the concussion talking. That's definitely light. This dead-end must back up to another part of the maze with a torch in it. And there's a crack in the mortar between the stones. I could…if I time it right…maybe…

I might die anyway, but I've got to try.

The Beast lowers his head for the finishing blow, which appears to consist of taking at least a good portion of my body in his mouth and, I assume eating me. Not today, Beast! As his head comes in, I push off the ground and spring up. I don't get more than a stride's length of height, but it's enough. I actually land on the Beast's head. I dig a heel into his eye, not maliciously, but because it helps me balance.

In that one instant, I slam my hands against the wall and shout an incantation _really fast_.

The wall cracks and the stones begin to spill down on us. A quick leap and I'm behind the Beast. He turns to chase me, but the wall collapses and drives him to the ground. He's still awake and fighting, but more and more of the wall comes down on him.

And then the ceiling.

Oh shell.

I curl down in time to feel the ceiling fall in on top of me and everything goes dark.

-==OOO==-

"Well, what else could I have done?" I ask. I'm pacing in the dojo, glaring at Leo. He's glaring right back.

"Collapsing the wall, Don?" he crosses his arms angrily. "You're supposed to be the clever one! You brought a roof down on your shell!"

"Yeah, I noticed," I roll my eyes. "But I wasn't going to be able to stop him any other way."

"What if the Beast wakes up and decides to eat you? He's way bigger and tougher than you. That wall falling on him might be nothing to him, but now you're the one who is vulnerable!"

"I _know_ that!" I yell. I stop pacing and face Leo. "Why are you so mad at me?"

"Because," Leo's voice softens. "I thought you had decided to live, Don. You can't die _now_! It's not fair!"

"I'm with you on that," I concede, the anger running out of me like water from a bucket full of holes. "But if you've got any better ideas, I'd love to hear them."

"Not really," Leo admits. "It was a dangerous plan, but I can't come up with any real alternative."

"Good," I grin at him. "Then stow it. This is _my_ dream, Leonardo. And even if you're here representing my logical nature, as I suspect, you don't get to lecture me if you can't outsmart me. Come back when you've got a better idea."

Leo laughs.

-==OOO==-

I'm coughing. Shell, what is in my mouth? Dirt?

Oh.

I blink but more dirt runs into my eyes so I screw them shut and feel my tears working to clean them out. Stupid. Don't open your eyes into dirt, Don. Won't help.

I try to stretch out my arms from the uncomfortable position I've curled them into somehow. As I shift, I can feel heavy earth moving around me. I seem to have trapped a small pocket of air between my plastron and my knees when I curled up, but my arms up above my head only meet more dirt. And, oh. Ow. That's a big rock. I think it's balanced on my shell. Thank the ancestors – I love being a turtle.

Well, maybe not thank them that much. I can't really move at all. Oh…no. Oh, shell. Dream Leo was worse than right.

I think I've been buried alive.

-==OOO==-

"Why am I here?" I ask. I stare around the lookout, the bright afternoon sun scattered through the leaves.

"I dunno," Raph shrugs. "Got someplace better to be?"

"Um, not really," I chuckle. "Definitely not really. I think my brain is trying to calm me down, maybe slow my heartbeat to conserve my air by showing me a much safer place. If I'm here and with you, I'll stop being scared and wasting air."

"Glad I make you feel better, brainiac," Raph smirks. He's leaning against one of the roof-supports, watching me carefully. "Nothing's gonna get you up here with me."

Well, that's true. The lookout is really something and I'm pretty proud of the design, which, of course, was mostly mine. It's like a small house way up in the oak but without any walls. The floor is a rough square, with a hole in the middle for the trunk of the tree. All around it, there's a railing-wall that comes up to just below my waist. At the corners and about equidistant between them are eight poles that hold up the roof, which also has a hole in it for the rest of the tree trunk. The wood is all old and weathered, exactly like the bark of the tree. There's no ladder and no door – to get up here, you have to be able to climb the tree and pull yourself in over the railing. In summer, it's a perfect blind. In winter, well, the lack of leaves in the tree makes it more exposed, but by the time anybody spots it against the rest of the dormant tree wood, especially in the lower light of the season, whoever was up there has already gotten a good look at the intruders. It's probably the safest place in the village.

To say nothing of my fierce, protective brother watching over me, over all of us, from here every day.

"I miss you in the forge," Raph says suddenly. "It ain't the same without you being shell-to-shell with me, babbling on about whatever it is while I do the grunt work."

"I don't babble!" I protest. "And it's not grunt work, Raph. What you do is just as important."

"Well, now I'm the only one doing it," he says roughly. "And it was important having both of us. I can't do what you did, Donnie. I never could. I got people coming to me with stuff I can't fix, including injuries. And I gotta turn them away."

"Raph, I'm sorry."

"I know ya are," he says lowly. "But are you sorry enough to live through this?"

"Yes," I say. "Is that what you are? My will to live? My strength to survive?"

"If it helps."

-==OOO==-

How long have I been here? The air smells really stale. It's going bad.

I have to get out of here somehow. I try to push with my legs, to lever my way upwards. I'll never dig out of here if I can't uncurl my legs.

Why can't I feel my legs moving?

_Why can't I feel my legs moving_?!

Oh shell oh shell oh shell…

-==OOO==-

"Hang in there, dude," Michelangelo puts a hand on my arm, leaning most of the way across the kitchen table to reach. "You'll be okay."

"No I won't!" I run my hands over my face. "I'm trapped and either my spine is broken from the stones cracking my shell on top of me or else I've done something else to my legs. I'll never get out if I can't move my legs, Mikey!"

"You're going to get out," he says, and his cheerfulness is tempered with honest optimism. "You will. You'll see. You always find a way out of a tough spot."

"This is not a 'tough spot,' Mikey! This is…" I trail off. "It's bad," I whisper. "Can't you be realistic for once?"

"What do you want me to say, bro?" he asks. "You're doing enough dour realism for both of us. Somebody's gotta have hope."

"Hope?"

"Yeah, hope!" he exclaims. "You got this far. You're not dead yet! You didn't think you could survive the Beast, either, but you did! A little dirt isn't going to stop the brother I know!"

I look at him, at his eagerness, and somehow it makes me smile. Trust Mikey to be what my brain conjures up to build back my confidence.

"So, great and wise Michelangelo, what should I do now?" I ask, feeling a small smile on my face.

"I dunno," he shrugs, matching my smile with a bright one of his own. "Turn the dirt around you into a shovel?"

"Not really doable," I reply. "But, maybe…maybe there's still something I can try."

"That's the spirit, Donnie!"

-==OOO==-

Okay. I'm awake again. My situation has not improved.

But this time I've got an idea. It's not a _great_ idea, but it's _an_ idea, so it's officially better than nothing. My face is still half-buried in dirt, but there's a pocket under my chin of truly foul-smelling air now. Slowly, gingerly, I tip my face down into that pocket, feeling dirt and stone slide down on either side of my head as I move. I have to do this without causing a collapse of this space.

My arms are numb, which I think has more to do with how long they've been curled in the same position and held above my head and neck than anything else. But I've been able to use alchemy with only will and spoken words before. It just never mattered as much as it does this time. I can't see, but there's nothing _to_ see, so it doesn't make any difference. I visualize the circle I would draw if I could move, carefully running my imagination over every single brush-stroke of every symbol within it. When I have it so well fixed in my mind I feel as though it was real and before me, I whisper the words.

It doesn't happen right away, but each breath starts to be easier, and soon the bad smell begins to fade, too. I'm transmuting the bad air to good air, a tiny bit at a time. In a few minutes, the air is as sweet and clear as if I were outside in the sun on a bright summer day. Good. Not gonna suffocate, then.

Now what?

Hey, legs? Do you work? Not really? Shell. I have absolutely no idea what I did to my legs, but it cannot be good. I'm going to have to use my arms, then. They crackle to life as I tense them, and I howl as they come back to slow, pin-pricky sensation. That time I fell asleep meditating and my foot turned almost black? Yeah, not even nearly as bad as this.

I pull one arm slowly down, and yes, I totally needed that sharp rock to slide into the space it left to clonk me on the head. Thanks. But, hey, at least I know exactly which way is down. It's hard to tell when you're totally buried. Down is directly below my face and my plastron. I remember curling under my shell – I must still be in largely the same position. Now it's just a question of how much dirt and rock is above me before I hit air.

I suddenly have a horrible thought. What if I didn't just bring down the ceiling of the maze, but the entire pack of ground between the subterranean cavern and the surface? I never got around to asking Leatherhead how far underground we are, but it's got to be many, many yards. It's a whole different proposition if I have to claw my way up to the forest floor, instead of just through a pile of ceiling debris. I estimate that it's even odds either way. Oh shell.

Figures that as soon as I really decide I don't want to die I get neatly buried. But I decided to live and I'm sticking with it now. No help for it but to try, I guess.

And I'm definitely not helpless. With one arm down in my pocket of air, I shakily trace a sigil in the soft, damp earth below me. It begins to glow sluggishly. My eyes are still full of dirt, but I blink anyway until I get a sort of blurry, watery vision. Yeah, not a lot to see here besides rocks and stones and dirt everywhere. I stare at my hand, trying to determine if it's hurt. No – just starved of blood. Well, and the scratches from before. I tip my head up and run into my own forearm. Hmm. With my free hand, I feel around. There's definitely a big rock just above my head, but I think most of its weight is on my shell now. I should be able to get the second arm free without caving in the whole mess.

Oh, ow. Shell and more ow. Why did I think this was a good idea, again?

Oh, my poor arms. The arm I freed first is returning to its normal color, albeit sluggishly. The other looks awful, though. My coloring is normally sort of a dull brown-green. Now it's just brown. No, wait, some of that's dirt. Clean it off and…okay, it's still kind of brown. But the green is coming back. Good. And my fingers work, although it still hurts to move them. No nerve damage, I think. Thank shell for small favors.

Slowly, gingerly, I start feeling around for my legs. Yup, that's a knee. Hey, I can feel that! Okay. Haven't totally paralyzed myself, then. That's a good start. But they're not moving well, if at all. Either they've been cut off from my heart's blood for too long or else they're injured, or, worst of all, something happened up on my shell where I don't have any nerves to feel with. But for now they're not dead, and I don't have the energy to worry about anything beyond that.

Time to see if I can get out of here. My legs won't help, but I might be able to cheat. If I have to drag myself upwards, I need to reduce my weight as much as possible. I spit on my hand a little, then reach back for my knee. I can't see it, but I know this sigil so well I could do it underwater with my hands behind my back, so underground with my hands out of sight on my own kneecap is close enough; good thing I've used this sigil on every weapon or piece of armor or farm equipment since I learned it years ago. As soon as the sigil is completed, I seek around until I find the other knee and repeat it. It won't help my legs any, but at least for a little while they won't weigh very much.

Ah, speaking of which, let's just repeat that process on the big rock over my head. More spit, more writing, got it. Now, here's the big test. I can easily move the rock above my head now, but what happens when I shift it is a complete unknown. If there's a lot of other stuff on top of me, it'll all start to slide down. I could lose my pocket of air. But if I do, I can probably create another one. Turtles can hold their breath for a long time, and my brothers and I have practiced it a lot. Okay. Time to move.

I take a really, really deep breath, drawing it in slowly and letting my lungs fill completely. Then I reach up and shove at the rock above my head.

Shell! That rock is _big_! Less of a rock more like a whole part of a wall or something.

I'm prepared for the shower of dirt and smaller rocks that make way as I push upwards. Having realized the sheer size of this thing, I'm tipping it up like a trapdoor in a floor rather than trying to lift it. The light is extinguished as the new dirt covers my glowing sigil below me, but so far it's not flooding into my air pocket faster than I can push upwards, so I'm not drowning in earth yet.

Come on, you stupid rock! Up! I want out of here!

No, body, this is _not_ a good time to get dizzy and sleepy again. Not a good time at all! I'm only partly up out of my little hole, and I'm not even stable. If I lose consciousness now, that rock will come slamming down like a prison door, and I've lost some air doing this. Come on! Push! I have to at least get to a stable place before…I…

Is that fresh air hitting my face?

-==OOO==-

Warm. Soft. Mmm.

"Rest, Donatello."

Okay.

-==OOO==-

My eyes are open. I'm in…a room? A room! Hooray! And it's a _comfy_ room. At least, the bed is comfy. I don't care about much else.

"Donatello?"

Huh? Oh. "Leatherhead?" Shell, my voice sounds dry.

"Here, my friend. Take this."

A form looms in front of me and I find a cup pressed to my beak. I take a few small sips and blink at the light. My eyes land on Leatherhead's amulet. It's colorless, utterly neutral. That's a good thing, right?

"How do you feel?" he asks me gently.

"I'm fine," I say, blinking more and my brain starting to run at its normal speed. "What about you? Are you okay?"

"Yes," he says. He shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, and I can see his long profile in the firelight. We're back in my room, of course.

"What happened?" I ask.

"My first memory after my transformation was waking up half-buried in the remains of a wall of my maze. From my surroundings, I deduced that I had been trapped for several hours, clawing my way out. But it took a rational mind to free myself. That done, I found this."

He holds up a piece of the bo I had hurriedly crafted, cracked in half. It held up okay, actually. I mean, it won't win any praise for, well, anything, but it was useful in the moment.

"I realized you must be nearby and began digging for you. I had almost given up hope when I saw a portion of dirt move. You managed to crawl out before you fainted."

Why the shell did I faint? I don't feel hurt. I run my hands over my head. Nope, nothing wrong. I look at them carefully. Normal coloring, normal function. Wait…there is something wrong…

My hands fly to my plastron.

"It's gone!"

"Yes," Leatherhead says. "There was a dangerous crack in your shell, which I believe was compressing your spine. I am, among other things, adept at alchemical healing techniques, and while I was setting right your injuries, I found I could also repair your scars. At least," he looks away, "the physical ones."

My plastron is whole. The horribly unsightly, ragged break caused by the Shredder is gone. It's like it never happened. And the slice on my forearm is gone, too. The alchemy scars on my palms remain, but even some older marks have disappeared or faded to near invisibility. I sit up a little and run my hands over my shell, and yes, it's whole, too. I'm even free of the three-year-old ding on the lower-left that came from sparring with Raph when I backed, ahem, _was thrown_ into the weapons rack and impaled my shell on a spear.

Before I can say anything, or really even process all this, Leatherhead clears his throat. "Donatello, I am so sorry. I am most gratified to find that you are alive after my ill treatment of you."

"Don't," I say, and it comes out harsher than I intended. I sit up the rest of the way and frown, meeting his eyes firmly. "This was our deal. I knew what I was getting into. Mostly. Enough." I shake my head. "Don't be sorry for what you did. The Beast did that, not you. You fixed me."

"I did, yes."

"You know," I say slowly, speaking as the thoughts come to me, "not long ago, a part of me would have been angry with you for repairing this," I touch my plastron. "It was a sign of my shame and dishonor. A sign of my sin. I would have wanted you to leave it, to remind me forever that I had broken my honor."

Leatherhead begins to speak but I interrupt him.

"But I'm not angry. And do you know why?"

"I do not," he shakes his head.

"Because when I came here in Master Splinter's stead, when I voluntarily agreed to be your keeper and guardian, that became my punishment. I don't need a scar now. I don't need to die now. I can pay my debt of honor and answer for my crimes by serving you for the rest of my life. And it balances." I breathe out and my chest hitches from something that has nothing to do with injury. "I can't forgive myself, and I can't forget, but at last I can make things right. You gave me that, Leatherhead."

I feel a very Leo-like glare coming over my face and I embrace it.

"So don't you be sorry. It's this or _seppuku_ , Leatherhead, and I know which one I prefer. I didn't before, but I do now." I feel my chin shake and manage, "It's me that owes you, Leatherhead. Anything that happens now is more than fair for what being here has given me in return."

"Donatello, my friend…" he trails off. Yeah, Leatherhead, I don't know what you would say next, either. But it doesn't seem to matter. There's too much here between us now.

Master Splinter once told us that there are three bonds that link souls like no other. The first is the bond of family and Clan. The second is the bond of true love between people. And the third is the bond of one person intent on killing another. There is nothing else in the world that matches those. Leatherhead and I are somewhere between the first and the third now. He wanted to kill me as the Beast, and I wanted to die. And now we're the only Clan or family we have in this dark underground world of rage and lostness. I could more easily serve another Lord than I could break from Leatherhead now.

Shell! That was embarrassing! Hey, stomach, next time you want to perform a symphony, do it in private, will you? But it makes me laugh, and it makes Leatherhead laugh.

"Do you feel well enough to join me for a meal?" he asks me. There is still a shadow in his smile, but I can tell he knows as well as I do where things stand.

"Sure," I say, and I find that I actually feel great. And not having to wear that layer of bandaging across my plastron is _wonderful_. I feel like I have a new start now. Like I've sort of been reborn, my sin dead with my scar. It's…freeing.

Leatherhead rises and I stand with him. The long remaining piece of my bo is leaning against the wall next to the bed. I regard it for a moment before swinging it to my back. I'm still wearing my pads and my belt, after all, and it fits perfectly in the place I expect to have one, if shorter than I'm used to. I'll have to make a better one sometime, a stronger one. And maybe some other tools and tricks. I don't ever want to be faced with the Beast with empty hands again. If I'm going to protect Leatherhead, and, well, the entire world above, I've got to up my game. It's not unlike serving as honor guard to a Lord. I can handle that.

As we head to the door, I look up at him. "Hey, Leatherhead?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For healing me."

"No, Donatello," he stops and meets my eyes warmly. "Thank you. For healing me."

I glance at his amulet. Still colorless. Okay. I'm building up a scale now. Red is bad, black is _very_ bad, orange is on the way to bad. Yellow is cautionary, but not yet trouble, green is fine, and colorless…

"I am happy," Leatherhead answers my thoughts. "It means I am happy to have a friend."

I smile at that.

"I'm happy, too."

Stomach! Stop sounding off!

"And hungry, too," Leatherhead says laughingly.

"Apparently," I grumble.

As we make our way to the kitchen, Leatherhead looks sideways at me, humor alight in his eyes. Oh, no. What now? He looks positively impish. Mikey-level impish. Brace yourself, Donnie.

"You know," he begins. Yup, definitely trouble.

"Yes?"

"After we have eaten, I believe it is only fair for you to rebuild the portion of the maze you collapsed."

Oh. Um. Is that all? "Okay."

"Good," he says as he opens the door to the kitchen. Now I'm suspicious.

"How big a portion got ruined, anyway?"

He smiles broadly. "Only all of it."

" _All of it_!?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting a little trickier here...
> 
> Also, can I just say how much I love all of your feedback and support? Sometimes posting fic feels a bit like singing alone on top of a mountain – you'll never know if there's anybody out there who can hear it. You guys are the best.
> 
> Enjoy!

Okay, so it turns out when I brought down the wall in the maze to stop the Beast, that was a bearing wall and...yeah, a whole lot of the maze caved in with it. No wonder the Beast didn't get out before reverting to Leatherhead. And after surveying the damage, it's a good thing Leatherhead worked so hard at trying to find me in the mess, because I probably wouldn't have gotten out otherwise.

We decide to rebuild the maze in a different part of the network of tunnels so we can work from a place where the structural integrity hasn't been compromised. It turns out that, once we design exactly how we want the maze to look, Leatherhead can use his connection to the land and his alchemy to raise the walls in large sections without us having to construct them directly. It saves us a ton of time, and the maze is rebuilt within days instead of a few months. But this time, we put our heads together and add a few new features.

First and foremost, we litter the maze with traps, from pitfalls to tripwires to pre-rigged portions of dirt that can be dropped from the ceiling with alchemy. Secondly, we build the whole cavern much taller than the first maze, but this time the walls do not go quite to the ceiling. We leave a gap above the maze before the ceiling that's high enough for me to stand up, but far too short for the Beast. The Beast will be able, if he thinks of it, to climb over a wall, but this gives me a clear place to outrun him and harry him from above. Plus, then if I do bring down a wall on him, the ceiling won't come, too. Thirdly, since I help in the design from start to finish, I know every twist and turn by heart so I won't have to wonder about where I am anymore while fighting for my life. Lastly, we replace the torches Leatherhead had used with alchemy-lit lights, sigils that will glow until they are erased, ensuring the maze isn't quite so dim for those of us whose eyes do better with some light. Also, this way the Beast can't, probably, set me on fire.

I mean, at least he'll have to find some first. And I'm trying to avoid that, all things considered. I've never liked the feeling of burnt skin. Does anybody? Probably not.

Anyway, it takes us more than a week to complete the maze. In that time, the Beast rises again briefly, but I'm able to lead him down a corridor near the cave where the farm animals live. Because that room is specially warded, the Beast can't break into it, but the smell of the animals makes him much more interested in them than me, so I just let that distract him and watch him pound away on the wall for an hour until his energy runs out and Leatherhead returns.

I start noticing patterns in the Beast as a few more weeks pass. Leatherhead might be fine for ten days straight, but then every few days the Beast will rise for increasingly frequent and intense periods until there's one major transition where the amulet goes truly black and the Beast remains for the better part of a day. After that, there may be one or two more transformations to the Beast, but they don't last long and the amulet never gets beyond bright red before another week or so of calm. I believe it's something like the buildup of water pressure behind a dam – it starts slowly, and then as leaks develop the whole thing weakens until the torrent just takes out the dam completely. But once that flow of the pent up water is mostly spent, the river returns to its more placid pace until it is once again stoppered and builds up pressure anew.

Unfortunately for me, the longer Leatherhead's periods free of the Beast are, the more frequent the transformations will become when that pressure bursts, and the more severe the violence of the Beast when it happens. So we begin to fall into a routine together, and with months of practice, it gets easier to manage and predict.

I wake in the mornings, very early, though I haven't seen the sun since I came down here so it's hard to know what "morning" corresponds to now. I spend my morning training. Where the old maze was, we convert what remains of the chamber into a dojo for me to use so I don't endanger the many things I've moved into my room. When Leatherhead wakes, he comes to watch me. He refuses to join me in any way because he fears anything he learns may inform the Beast. As soon as I see him, I assess his amulet. Unless it's already flickering to orange, I continue my training until I am spent – when it's already orange, we both head straight for the maze and I train by doing.

On most days, though, we share a quiet breakfast before we retreat to the lab. That's where we spend most of our time. Leatherhead has more knowledge of alchemy than any master I had ever dreamed of, so I become a very happy, rapt pupil, absorbing anything he'll teach me for hours. We pause in the early afternoon for lunch, and then the afternoon is dedicated to the practical work. This I do in a corner of the lab specifically set aside for my use. My first project is to craft a better bo for myself to defend against the Beast.

I know I swore never to make weaponry again, but this is different. This isn't my working a blade that will be called upon to save my brothers' lives, or a helmet to spare them injury. This is purely for my own benefit – no one else's safety rests on me now. And Leatherhead feels more comfortable when he knows I am prepared to defend myself. So I eventually fashion a bo made out of metal, stronger and lighter than anything I could have crafted in a forge alone. With Leatherhead's help, I absolutely cover the entire bo with sigils, bestowing everything from endurance and luck to making it nearly an extension of myself. If I need to use alchemy, as long as all the symbols I need are inscribed on the bo, I need only touch it to the surface upon which I would have inscribed them and will the reaction to take place.

When it is new, I use it to open doors for a while, because I _can_. But soon enough I'm also using it to spring traps against the Beast, to brighten or darken a sigil-light, to work a swift healing as needed. Being able to simply wrap my hands around the bo and command a wound to close cleanly is exceptionally useful.

And, yeah, fun. It's fun and I'm not ashamed of that.

Leatherhead usually spends his afternoons, when he is not watching me work, digging more tunnels or shoring up those that already exist. He learned long ago that physical labor sometimes helps keep the Beast at bay. But some days he just sits and watches me in silence. I thought at first he did this to remain close by should he transform, but he does it on days when the amulet is colorless, too. I think sometimes he just likes company.

It helps us both. I can't imagine what life would be like down here if we hadn't found some way of getting along with one another. After that first appearance by the Beast, Leatherhead seemed to make some kind of decision about me because he's been open and friendly ever since. He puts up with my eager learning of alchemy with a sort of amused patience, but I think it's a relief for him as much as it is for me to have that connection. I've never had a teacher of any kind, and I am starting to believe Leatherhead has never had any sort of friend. I might have been different from my brothers, but I had brothers. I'm used to having someone around me. I can't help but think out loud, waiting for feedback or commentary or just some kind of response. Leatherhead listens to me, and he talks to me, too, though he is more stilted than I. I don't think he's had the same lifetime of practice opening up his thoughts to another. But he tries. And that makes these dim caverns and the passing days much more amiable.

I try not to think about the decades he spent down here alone with no one to talk to at all, no one to remind him of his reality when the Beast was looming. Whenever I get a glimpse of it, I redouble my efforts to be as good a friend as I can be to Leatherhead. He deserves one.

At supper time, I stop whatever I have been crafting or experimenting with, and Leatherhead and I eat together. Right after supper, I usually train again, sometimes with any new gadgets or weaponry I've crafted in the day, after which I retire to my room to read from the small library of books I have assembled in there before I sleep. Leatherhead assures me that he has never transformed when asleep himself, and with supper he drinks a tea that has a powerful soporific effect, lessening the likelihood that he will transform in the evening even farther. It is a tea I learned to brew from Master Splinter, so I am happy to turn its use to something other than getting cranky turtle children to go to bed. Because of this, I do not often need to watch Leatherhead closely at night. The few times his amulet stayed stubbornly orange even after the tea, we simply took a long walk in the maze until he either transformed or fell asleep in a corner.

It seems that having this routine in place makes the emergence of the Beast simpler to regulate and within four months we have instituted enough control and routine that the Beast tends only to appear between the early morning and the beginning of the afternoon. A day with no transformation by supper-time typically ends peacefully.

It's a busy life, full of all the study and learning I have always craved, but also the skill and work of the ninja that has been the cornerstone of my whole existence. If not for one sorrow, I could be utterly content with this new existence of service and dedication.

But that sorrow is, of course, profound in the extreme. I miss my family.

I think about them all the time. Every move in the dojo, I can hear my father's voice calling out the next part of the kata, or calling for an improvement to my form. Every time I turn to the forge in the lab, I can feel where Raph should be behind me, bellows in hand, ready to build up the fire when I stand clear. Every note I take from my books and my experiments, I see how the same words would be written in Leo's clean, elegant calligraphy. Every time I try to make Leatherhead laugh to drive the amulet back to green, I wonder what Mikey would have said, and if it would have been funnier than my attempt. They're like ghosts, so close I am wrapped up in their presence every moment of the day, but I cannot see or touch them for real.

And I dream of them at night. Mostly I dream of them going about their tasks as usual, practicing, cooking, irritating each other, meditating. On days when I have faced the Beast, I tend to see them very clearly in my dreams, conversing with them as if they could actually help me. However, I know my brain too well – I know I am only trying to comfort myself with their images. But I speak to them as if they were real anyway. I am much more clever when I have them to guide and support me, inspiring new ideas or encouraging a way forward.

It's already late fall now, and I find myself thinking about whether or not they're doing okay preparing for winter without me. I did leave them all the books and notes I could on how to use alchemy to make the walls keep out the wind, or how to preserve food, but there's no way for me to know if they've made them work. Down in our underground lair Leatherhead and I are pretty snug, but the winter above will be bitterly cold for my brothers if they can't guard the house correctly.

For a week it eats at me, as more and more I just want to see them, be a part of their lives, even for a moment. Finally, over lunch one day, it all comes out.

"Donatello, you have been unhappy these last few days," Leatherhead says gently. "I wish you would tell me why."

"I don't want to trouble you with it," I try to deflect. But he's too perceptive to miss how sad I really am, and too kind to leave it alone.

"We are friends, are we not?" he asks pointedly. I nod. "Then it is not a trouble. It is a trust."

Well, that sounds okay. A kernel of hope lights in my chest. Maybe I can explain it after all. Leatherhead has been nothing but understanding and honest with me for as long as I've known him. Maybe he will forgive me.

"It's my family," I finally say. Shell, why does admitting it aloud make it hurt so much worse?

"Your family?" he says gently, urgingly.

"I really… I really miss them," I admit heavily. "They're everything to me. We're everything to each other." I feel about six years old, but I say anyway, "I just want to see them again. Not only dream about them, but actually see them. See that they're okay."

"I'm sorry, Donatello," Leatherhead looks sad.

"I know your bargain with Master Splinter said I would never return, but that was when we figured the Beast would kill me. And that hasn't happened yet, and we're getting better and better at handling the Beast all the time. I know I gave you my word, and I'm not asking to break it. I just...I need them in my life, at least a little. So, maybe I could go visit them sometimes?" My breath is coming fast, and I'm watching Leatherhead carefully. He just looks so sad. And the sadder he looks, the more his amulet starts swirling a darker yellow.

"No," he shakes his head. "No, Donatello. You cannot ever go back to your family."

"Can't? Can't ever?" My throat feels dry and my heart is pounding, and there's a sudden grief bubbling up in my chest. I think I'm getting hysterical. "But why? _Why_?"

"I warned you when we met that I was naturally very territorial, and the Beast is moreso," Leatherhead looks away. "The Beast may try to kill you every time you face me, but the Beast on some levels also knows that you belong to me. If that territory was ever challenged, if that which is mine was at risk, the Beast would destroy the threat."

"You're saying…if you ever see me with my family, the Beast will go berserk and try to kill them?" I seize upon the obvious loophole. "Then don't watch! I'll just go to the surface alone and visit with them for a little and then come back. The Beast won't even be aware of it!"

"No, Donatello. It cannot be this way," Leatherhead looks at me and his eyes are firm. And turning a little orange. Uh oh.

Too bad my mouth starts talking before my brain can warn it. "But I could sneak off and—"

" _No_!"

Oh, shell. The amulet is flaring red now. I grab for my bo and open the kitchen door, leading the way out of the room quickly. The Beast is right on my heels, but he's also partly Leatherhead. The red is still bright, so the Beast still speaks, still thinks, just with a whole different attitude than my friend.

" _You are mine_!" he roars. I'm running ahead of him towards the maze now, and I can hear him falling deeper and deeper into the Beast as we go. " _You will never leave_!"

There's a hint of something in the words that isn't just rage and violence. I've never asked Leatherhead before, but I bet sadness triggers the Beast, too. He mentioned that he has to stay calm. I guess I forgot that more than frustration or fear or anger can drive a person out of their right mind.

And if that's the case, then how much have I hurt him by asking to leave?

Whoops! That's a train of thought for another time when the full-fledged Beast isn't on my tail and gaining!

I run up the wall and take off at a good pace atop the maze, glancing down to gauge the Beast. He's big, but not as enormous as my first encounter, and the amulet is staying at a fairly bright red. He's probably beyond words now, but this one won't last too long if my estimation is correct. Still, it feels worse than it is, because this time I'm pretty sure I drove Leatherhead to this state. This wasn't a natural accumulation of the curse. This is my fault.

Shell. And I'm supposed to be protecting him!

No time for self-recrimination now. The Beast roars at me from the ground, and I realize that his eyes are utterly fixed on me. This isn't just an expression of unending savagery – he's actually directing that rage at _me_. Great. Wonderful. This will be tons of fun.

And here people think Raph's the only one who lives on sarcasm.

I leap over the corridor to get to the other wall, where I turn off to the right, leading the Beast after me. I guess this is as good a time as any to try my newest trick. I put on a burst of speed to get enough ahead of him, and perch on a metal bar that crosses the pathway.

"Come on, Beast!" I call mockingly. "Got a surprise for you!"

Ooh, no taunting the Beast, Donnie! It makes him faster!

The Beast sprints forward as I leap backwards. As soon as he passes under the metal crosspiece, I slam my bo upwards into a sigil carved there only yesterday. From the floor and walls of the maze come a series of very, very thick bars. They close behind the Beast, and then a few yards in front of him. The Beast turns to look up, but another set of bars slide into place across the top as well. The walls here are all reinforced with the same metal, so it's effectively a metal cage bound to my alchemy, not the land that answers to the Beast.

"Comfy?" I call cheekily down to him. The Beast roars furiously at me and crawls up the side of the cage to get to the top. Part of his long snout fits through the gaps between the bars, and he tries to snap at me. But no matter how he yanks on the bars, they hold firm.

"Just hang on," I tell him. "You'll feel better soon."

I know that this trick will only work in this spot once or twice before the Beast will figure it out. I've established that he has a sort of canny intelligence even in the deepest of the rages, enough that the same trap won't work after a few repeated efforts. But if it works this time, I can build more like this throughout the maze and use them when needed. I probably wouldn't unless he were in a black-colored rage, which are the most dangerous and take the longest to end, but today seemed a good day to test things out.

The Beast howls and throws himself against the cage for more than an hour before the red glow of the amulet finally begins to dim. I've observed Leatherhead transform back from the Beast many times, but it still fascinates me. As the glow shifts from that ruby light to a more orange color, his body becomes smaller and paler, his jaws a little shorter and his roaring becomes far less ardent. When the amulet reaches true orange, the body again resembles Leatherhead, but the eyes are still wide and a little unseeing. It takes a return to yellow before I can again converse with my friend at any length.

But this time the orange doesn't fade to yellow. I wait more than half an hour and it remains bright and steady. Leatherhead – I can't think of him as the Beast now, even though he's still acting more Beastly than Leatherhead-y – stares up at me through the cage, growling deeply in his chest.

I look down at him. "Are you that upset with me?" I ask softly.

"You cannot leave!" he grates back, the orange flashing in his eyes. Okay, apparently he is still a lot more Beast than Leatherhead. But sometimes I can get the Beast to talk, and maybe I can learn something about this if I try.

"Why do you attack me if you don't want me to leave?"

"You will not return if you leave!" he answers me, and that's definitely the Beast talking. The orange is getting redder in color, too. I've got to be careful or I'll just reverse things all over again. I guess he won't answer my question, but I should probably say something to calm him down.

"I will," I assure him. I actually sit on the wall and dangle my feet into the cage. I can move if I have to, but it helps me feel like I'm not leaving him totally alone. Maybe that'll help him relax, too. "I'll come back. I promise."

"No!" I expect with that shout for the orange to fade and the red to return, but it doesn't. In this odd half-state, I'm really talking with the Beast, and he seems pretty stable. Still scary, but stable.

"I promise," I say again. I look into the red-orange eyes steadily.

"No!" He pounds the wall beneath me. "No! If you leave me, you will die!"

 _Say what now_? I can feel my eyes widening in surprise. Maybe I misheard? I pull my feet up a little and reply, "I'll be fine. I'll come back safely. I promise!"

"No!" Yup, there's the full red again. But he's not growing in size, so this transformation is almost spent anyway. It's...almost like the Beast is fighting returning to Leatherhead to keep talking to me. That's an odd idea.

"If you leave me, _you will die_!" he shouts again, gasping between words. " _You can never leave_!"

Now, that's new. The Beast isn't usually out of breath like that. Except...no, he really _is_ fighting the return to Leatherhead, and it's tiring him! What the shell is going on here?

But my duty first and foremost is to take care of Leatherhead, so I have to put an end to this. "I understand. It's okay. I won't leave. It's okay."

His eyes roll shut and he drops in a dead faint. Shell!

I'm down in the corridor next to the cage door in one leap. But before I release the alchemical seal, I peek at the amulet. Colorless. Leatherhead did say he doesn't turn while asleep. But...I've never seen him change from the Beast while unconscious. It's usually a really uncomfortable-looking transition. Leatherhead might not remember everything on either side of a change, but he's usually awake for it.

Well, I can't just stand here. I touch my bo to the symbol that retracts the bars and move in.

"Leatherhead?" I call, bo still in one hand, just in case.

Nothing.

I drop to one knee near his head. I'm not afraid of Leatherhead anymore, even if I am cautious about the Beast. I put a hand on his shoulder and give it a gentle shake. "Leatherhead?"

"Ugh..." That's a good sign. Come on, now. I shake a little harder and I'm rewarded with a more coherent grunt. I know that one. It translates to, "I'm sleeping, leave me alone." No can do, buddy.

"Come on, Leatherhead. Let's get you out of here."

His eyes open sluggishly. They shift from brown, their normal state when the amulet is colorless, to a pale yellow, but more on the green side. I put the bo away in response.

"Are you well, Donatello?" he asks me as he always does.

"Yup. Not a scratch." Interesting. I don't think Leatherhead realizes this transformation was any different than all the other ones. To him, he's just come out of it the same as always. Hmm.

"Thank you for your care," he says as he gets to his feet. "I take it your trap worked?"

"Perfectly. I'll begin recreating more of them. We could set one every couple of yards in the maze if we wanted, or craft a whole bunch and move them around. Once the Beast was contained, it was just a matter of waiting it out." I settle into a comfortable babble because my brain is somewhere else entirely.

Why does the Beast think – no, that's not right – _know_ absolutely that I'll die if I leave? Also, I'm touched he cares about that, even if he does have a funny way of showing it. But in all the months down here, I've never seen the Beast want _anything_ other than to smash things and generally be a violent nuisance. Today, he wanted to communicate something, and he wanted...he wanted to protect me? Not a consistent message when he was also trying to kill me, but...I don't know, maybe it's a start?

But a start to what? It makes no sense.

"Shall we continue our lunch?" Leatherhead asks me politely.

"Sure," I nod, and fall into step beside him as we exit the maze.

"Donatello?"

"Yes?"

"Did we...finish our conversation? I only remember..."

"We finished it," I say, cutting him off. "It's fine."

No, it's not. It's _really_ not. But I think I need more information before I bring it up again.

-==OOO==-

That night, I dream of Raphael.

"Why d'you think he thinks you'll die if you come see us?" he asks. I'm sitting on my well-worn stool in the forge, leaning my shell on my workbench. Raph is illuminated by the red coals that radiate a heat I don't feel. Outside, the sky is dark and spotted with stars.

"I don't know," I shake my head. "I know what Leatherhead said about the Beast being territorial, but..."

"But what?"

"It doesn't feel right," I admit. "I don't think Leatherhead isn't telling me the truth – it's not that. It's more like...I don't know." I sigh.

"You got that look on your face," Raph quirks an eyebrow.

"What look?"

"The one where you got half a problem solved but the whole thing ain't fixed and you gotta figure out what the other half of the problem is before you can solve it."

"That's about right," I smile. "I think what Leatherhead told me is true, and I think that might be as much as he knows. But I think the Beast thinks or knows something else, something different. And until I know what _that_ is, I can't do anything about it."

"So what are ya going to do now?"

I let out a thick breath and huff a laugh. "I have no idea."

"That's a new one, brainiac," Raph grins at me. "You always got an idea."

"I can't make something out of nothing, not even with alchemy," I reply. "I can't solve a mystery without any clues."

"Then why are we talking?"

That brings me up short. "What?"

"How come you're here, talking to me, instead of, I dunno. Sleeping? Or whatever you do?" Raph crosses his arms and leans against the warm brick of the forge. "It's your dream, right? So why dream this?"

"That's...a really good question."

"I'm not that dumb, Donnie. I can be smart sometimes."

"I know you're not dumb," I protest. I also know he's teasing me, but it's a sore spot with me. I hate that my own abilities sometimes make my brothers feel inadequate. "You've never been dumb. You just..."

"I what?" Raph is smiling.

"Oh."

"Oh what?"

"It's _you_ ," I look at him, and I feel myself drawing conclusions rapidly. "I'm dreaming about you because _you're_ the one I should be thinking about when I sort this out."

"Come again?"

"It's your temper, Raph," I explain. "You're the one who reminds me of the Beast."

"Thanks, really."

"That's not what I mean," I shake my head. I stand and start to pace, thinking aloud. "We both know you've got an issue with your own rage. And when something really sets you off, you kind of lose yourself for a while. You're not a raging monster the way the Beast is, but you do get caught in your anger and you stop thinking rationally."

"Not getting better, bro."

"Okay," I stop and turn to him. "If you were being really, really protective, crazily protective, why would you think someone who left you would die?"

"I don't know," Raph shrugs. "Assuming I wasn't the one gonna kill them?"

"Yeah."

"Then 'cause I'd think they'd be in danger if they weren't where I could watch out for 'em."

"Right."

"You're saying the Beast is trying to protect you?" Raph frowns. "From what?"

"I don't know," I shake my head. "But somehow the Beast thinks there's something dangerous that is out there that would hurt me if I left him. Maybe the Beast remembers something that used to live here. Maybe the Beast thinks humans always hunt Animals. I don't know. But now I know what to ask."

I grin at Raph. "Thanks, bro. Wouldn't have gotten to that without you and your anger issues."

"Not sure that's a good thing. But," he smiles warmly, the soft, proud smile he only gives when there's nobody to see, "you're welcome, Don."

-==OOO==-

The insight from my subconscious fills my thoughts for the next few days. It takes me a while to figure out a good way to talk to Leatherhead about all my questions, so evenings get spent considering possibilities instead of reading for a while. Eventually I map out a plan.

The Beast still rises every few weeks for a few different bursts, but not always in that odd way that gives him the ability to speak. I think it only happens about once in every six or seven instances of the Beast. So I will have to be patient. I make a list of any possibilities I can think of, from historical treatment of Animals by humans to hypothermia, and resolve to ask about one each opportunity I get.

A few weeks later, one afternoon gives me my first chance to test my theory. While the Beast is chasing me, I ask him if he knows of any threats on the surface that would be a danger to me.

"I will destroy any threat!" he bellows back. Okay, not that, then. Nice to know he's so protective, though.

But then the Beast goes through a period where he refuses to speak. For three months, even when the amulet reflects what should be the right color, I can't get him to do more than bellow at me. It's a strange change to a pattern more than half a year in the making. It puzzles me so much I ask Leatherhead about it as soon as I realize how distinct a change it is. Unfortunately, he doesn't have any particularly good ideas.

"The only insight I can give you," he tells me, "is that my awareness of the Beast itself seems to be changing too. The curse crawls around in my mind differently than it once did, but I do not yet know how or why."

"We should probably begin investigating it, then," I reply. "If it's changing, we need to know what's happening, and if things will get worse."

Leatherhead flinches at that, but nods. "I believe you are correct."

"Can you tell me...?" I stop. Leatherhead has always evaded talking about whatever caused the curse, and I still can't quite bring myself to breach that silence. "Can you tell me what feels different?" I amend instead.

"I will try," he says. "Imagine the difference between stepping into a warm room and walking into a chilly room that slowly begins to warm. In the first case, you are caught and surprised by the suddenness of the change. In the other, it is more subtle, almost invisible until you realize you are now warm. This is the change I have been experiencing."

"The transition to the Beast is blurring?" I frown. "But you aren't more...you know, _you_ when the Beast rises."

"Apparently not," Leatherhead agrees. "But I do sense the change coming sooner."

Hmm. I wonder why. Could it be me? Or something to do with the time the Beast resisted the transition back to Leatherhead to talk to me? Not enough evidence to draw any conclusions.

We speculate for most of an afternoon, but get nowhere. And the thoughts plague most of my night as well. By the time I make it to the dojo for morning practice, my mind has spun over the same possibilities so much I can barely focus on my stance.

But when Leatherhead enters, all those thoughts are driven out of my mind.

"Leatherhead?" I call cautiously. His amulet is a dark, dark yellow. "What is it?" I ask, the feeling in the pit of my stomach dropping with every passing second. I abandon the dojo at once and start to head towards the maze, but Leatherhead blocks my way.

"Bandits in The Woods above," Leatherhead snarls, and oh shell that's a lot of sudden orange! But Leatherhead manages to hold onto himself as he moves through the tunnels to an archway near the kitchen and inscribes a quick sigil.

"What will happen?" I ask, reaching back to touch my bo with one hand while checking my belt-pouches for some other supplies with the other.

"We'll get to the surface," Leatherhead growls deeply. Actually, it's kind of hard to tell if he's fully Leatherhead or sort of the Beast right now. Even after all this time, I can't be sure. "I will remove the threat from my land."

Right, _that_ was all Beast.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask quickly.

"Besides survive me?" He turns and I see a tiny pinprick of yellow in the center of his amulet, the last vestiges of Leatherhead stubbornly shining through. "If you can spare any of the bandits' lives, I will thank you for it, but the Beast will not."

Shell. Saving a bunch of bandits who have probably killed and looted all the while on their way here isn't high on my list of priorities, but I can see Leatherhead's point, too. They shouldn't have to die horribly in the jaws of the Beast for their crimes. However, if I intervene and try to save them, the Beast will definitely come after me as well. This will not be at all fun.

I follow Leatherhead into the tunnel that opened at his sigil and realize it's just a small room. But before I can ask about it, the stones beneath my feet begin to shake. In moments, we are moving upwards at a rapid pace, emerging into darkness but the fresh air is clear. It's night? Hmm. Maybe more likely really early morning. I didn't think my body's rhythms had gotten off by that much.

Ooh, and it is cold! And there's snow! And I don't even have boots. Great. I won't have time to save any bandits – I'll be busy freezing to death. But I guess I can't save them if I don't know where they are. The Woods are massive. Where will we even start?

I turn to Leatherhead, and rapidly come to two realizations as I peer through the darkness of the trees after his retreating form:

First, he already knows where to find the bandits out here.

Second, he's not Leatherhead anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

Aw, shell. This is not good. I'm in the dark, freezing, calf-deep in snow, and the Beast is already charging ahead to start making liberal use of his teeth and claws against whatever bandits were stupid enough to trespass in his Woods. Okay, _think_ Donnie!

Well, first off, even I won't do any good if I can't stay warm. I'm a turtle and the cold could kill me. Shouldn't it kill the Beast? No – more likely it would kill Leatherhead, but the Beast, as with all things, is an exception to the laws of magic. Never mind. I'll puzzle that out later.

I grab a branch from an evergreen tree and yank it free. The green needles are sharp and their scent pricks my nose, but they'll work for what I need. I pull out my bo and sweep at the ground, clearing the snow from the dirt with a word. There's dead grass under the snow, too – perfect. I drop the branch into the dry place and slam the bo down, reciting a really long and complicated incantation. The branch dissolves into its component parts – wood, pine needles, and sap – and with a will I combine these with the present grasses and the dirt. The result is coarse and unrefined, but I do end up with a pair of boots, wooden on the bottom, pine and grass on the inside, with an earthen shell and bound together by sap. I step into the boots and they close to fit me perfectly. Good. Now at least I can run and not lose all feeling in my feet.

But I'll still freeze to death if I'm not careful. I think longingly of my old cloak, the one I, of course, left at the house when I left my family months ago. Come on, Donatello. Are you or are you not an alchemist with half a year of intensive training? I should be limited by nothing but my own imagination.

My eyes fall to the ground and inspiration strikes. I twirl my bo once before driving the end deep into the cold earth. When I yank it up, a huge knot of roots comes up. Not tree-roots, because they would be too big. But the roots of all the small stuff – the ground-cover, the bushes, the young saplings. I pull up three more knots until I have enough roots of the right size and flexibility. Then it's just a matter of forming them into a shape. Using alchemy, I weave the roots together as if they were thick cords of thread until I have a true blanket. This I then fashion into a proper coat for myself, complete with sleeves and a hood. It hangs long enough to cover my legs to my boots, and I close the bottom around each leg to fashion trousers. My hands are still exposed, but there's no help for that – I have to be able to touch my bo to work my alchemy. But now I'm enclosed head to toe in material that will keep out the wet and the wind. And because it's all organic material, it can take a little more working. I order the water in the roots and pine needles and everything else to be warm, and it's exactly like falling into a hot bath. The covering won't protect me like armor, but I am finally not in danger from the cold.

I've lost several minutes of time on the Beast, but it couldn't be helped. Now I spring up a tree, giving me a good look-out over The Woods. The bandits shouldn't be too hard to find…

Shell!

I start bouncing from one tree to the next, much faster across the canopy than I would be on the forest floor. Out of deeply-ingrained habit, I am moving nearly silently, but I'm not paying any attention to that. All my focus is on the two lights I can see standing out like the moon in the darkness of The Woods. One, bounding ahead, is a lantern being carried by the bandits as they advance. The other is the tiny glow that tells me where the Beast is, but I won't have it to guide me for long – the dark red is almost fully shifted to black. I pick up my speed as new fear strikes deep in my heart.

The bandits are advancing on Manha'tan!

Ancestors, give me speed!

The trees blur by as I leap farther and farther while I fight against panic. Thank shell for my bo – not only can I use it to pole-vault to even greater distances, but a breath of alchemy and it throws me twice the distance as a helpful wind carries me. In a handful of leaps I'm almost even with the Beast. But the bandits are farther ahead, and great in numbers. There must be twenty of them. Even the Beast in all his rage won't kill them all before they reach my village.

There's only one real choice. Forgive me, Leatherhead.

" _Hamato Clan to arms_! _Intruders_!" I scream as loud as I can. I follow it up with a sound like a clap of thunder, easy to produce with my hands and easier still to amplify with alchemy. It's a sound I've used my whole life to alert my family to danger.

I've got to trust that my brothers and father are scrambling – their bodies reacting on reflex even before their minds have caught up enough to wonder who is warning them of trouble. I've got to trust that they'll hold the tree-line against any bandits that escape the Beast and move on the town. To make it easier for them, I create an orb of flame in my hands and toss in in the air. I bat it with my bo to send it on ahead of the bandits. It comes to a rest floating at my shoulder-height just inside the village's border, marking the place from which the danger comes.

But that's all I can do on that front now. The rest of my duty is with the Beast and I'm needed there. I can hear the screaming as the Beast catches up to the slowest bandit. Ugh. There's one I won't save, anyway.

But if I can drive them into the village, my brothers will handle the rest.

It's a terrible plan in so many ways, but it's the only one I have.

I take one more leap so I'm well ahead of the Beast now and drop from the trees right into the center of the running crowd of bandits. They have gotten wise to the Beast coming up behind them and they're not so much charging as they are fleeing. Apparently I was moving silently after all, because they had no idea I was coming and thus react with fear when I appear. But I don't have time to explain anything. I don't even bother.

"Run!" I shout, pointing my bo towards the village. "Run and surrender and you will live. Fight and you'll die. And if you want it to be _horrible_ , stay here."

Shell! Dude, what is up with you? I'm _warning_ you! That's not a good reason to try to take my head off with your sword! I pivot and bring my bo around, smashing it into his shoulder. The momentum of the move carries me in a full circle and I sweep his legs with my foot, dropping him in the snow.

"You've got two choices!" I yell at him. "Stay here and deal with _that_!" I point to where the Beast is close upon us in a totally black rage. "Or run to the village where you can surrender and be taken prisoner. Or fight my family there and you'll die if you're stupid about it, but it won't involve teeth. Choose now!"

Thankfully, five or six of the bandits look to where the Beast has started bellowing and start sprinting for Manha'tan, shouting their surrender. But the rest size up the Beast and me, and then look to the guy I dropped, who has gotten to his feet.

"The legend is true!" he shouts. "The monster will not enter the village. Let's take it for our own!"

Oh, ancestors save me from _morons_. I hope my family teaches you a _serious_ lesson.

No more time for them. The Beast is within range now, and I told Leatherhead I'd try to keep him from killing them. If these guys are just going to run to Manha'tan and stir up trouble, I guess I have to let them do it. Stopping the Beast is my real job. I ready my bo. I haven't faced off against the Beast without the tricks of the maze in a long time. This will be interesting.

The Beast actually pauses as he approaches me. His black eyes stare at me, and flick to the fleeting bandits. He…he recognizes me! He must! At least a little! And he's deciding if he wants to fight me or the intruders. Well, sorry Beast, but as much as I'd rather you not be focused on me, that's what I'm here to do. I take advantage of his pause to snap out with the bo and hit him on the end of his snout. He _hates_ that.

Yup, no more recognition. Yikes!

I backpedal furiously as he lunges at me, his enormous jaw snapping closed just inches from my face. I get one foot set under me, which is enough for me to spring backwards another leap, giving me a margin where I am not staring at looming, massive teeth. But the Beast doesn't even hesitate and charges at me again, roaring. I set myself with my shell braced against a tree and my mind flickers over a few of the sigils on the bo with the speed of lightning. When the Beast gets in range, I slam the end of the bo into his chest and release my will.

The Beast goes flying as if punched with the force of a typhoon. Ha!

Of _course_ he doesn't stay down. No, that would be too easy. We can't make it easy on me, no, of course not. At least he's slow to get up. Shell, he took out six really thick, tall trees by cutting them down with his back as he went through them! I don't even want to think about what that would do to _my_ back.

If I could, I'd use Leatherhead's trick and pull us underground to handle him there, but I don't know how. I know some of the tunnels in this area, but not as many as I should – I've never wanted to get too close to Manha'tan, even underground, because it was too painful a reminder. And I don't know how to open the ground and draw us down that way like he does. I could do it, but I'd need time. And the Beast isn't inclined to give me any. Note to self – ask Leatherhead about that immediately if not sooner. I don't think I've got any options but to endure the Beast up here until he retreats. I miss the labyrinth now. I could just get him in one of my cages and call it good…okay, stop it, Donnie. Work with what you _have_ , not what you don't have. Come on. Focus!

It's uninspired, but I buy myself a few moments by sweeping the bo out and simply using alchemy to pile all the felled trees from the Beast's impact on top of him. It won't work for long, but at least I'll have a minute or two where he has to dig himself out from enough lumber to build any three houses before he comes at me again. Now what?

I glance around and an idea comes to me. It's risky, but it could work.

I start spinning my bo over my head, focusing on the correct symbols and beginning an incantation. In moments I've whipped up a massive gust of air, rushing around me in ever-widening circles. Then I start pulling with the air, drawing every single snowflake and icicle I can from the ground and the tree-boughs and the bushes. An infusion of just enough heat to melt them and I'm standing in the center of a whirlpool of frigid water. The trees around me are starting to shine with the droplets of water that get caught on them, but most of it stays in my rush of air.

The Beast breaks free from the trees and rises to charge me again.

I hurl the entire whirlpool of water at him. The instant it reaches him, driving him back against the trunk of an enormous tree, I remove absolutely every bit of warmth from the water, freezing it instantly. The Beast, and most of the tree, is totally encased in a glacier. The thing must be four yards thick in every direction.

I step closer. The ice is not nearly as cloudy as a natural ice block would be due to the use of my alchemy, so I can see through it, kinda. The Beast doesn't appear to be moving at all. The good news is that I've got him really well contained now. The bad news is that this might or might not actually work the way I want it to. I've never been able to figure out why the Beast retreats. If it's due to just sort of waiting it out for the curse to run out of energy, it's only a matter of time. But if the Beast doesn't let go until he's physically exerted himself sufficiently, this will just prolong the transformation, and when the ice comes down he'll still be black-eyed and with as much fury as before.

Well, at least I'll learn something new about the curse, then. I figure I can watch for a few hours. If, in that time, the black fades to red and onto orange, I know I just need to wait until Leatherhead returns and I can shatter the ice. If the black hasn't changed at all, I'll have to crack open the ice and face the Beast anew.

I wonder if he can breathe in there. I wonder if he needs to. Shell. Um, I better make sure he can. Just in case. In fact, I better make sure he doesn't freeze to death, either. Easy enough, though.

I carve a sigil on the ice block. It immediately turns a bright red and starts to pulse rhythmically. This will monitor his life-force, not to mention his body, so I can tell if anything has gone wrong. Red is the right color – the color of blood and of healthy tissue, so that's good. For air, then, I jump up on top of my glacier and walk to the tree that protrudes out of the center of it. It's easier to create a small channel for air here than straight through the ice, and I can use the tree to help. With alchemy, I carve a vein out of the side of the tree, about the size of my palm, that runs down to where the Beast is pinned, creating a pathway for air. I put my hand over the opening, but I don't feel any air moving. I guess he's breathing really shallowly. But the sigil in front is still red and warm, so he's fine.

Time to wait it out, I guess.

I'm just thinking about whether I should build myself a little shelter when the sound reaches me. It's faint at first, but all noise is dampened strangely in The Woods. The wind? No, that's not right. It's…shouting? No, not exactly. Screaming, maybe, from not too away...

Oh shell. Oh shell! That's _Mikey_!

My feet are running before my brain has even stopped to consider. I have a single instant of clarity as I dash through The Woods, remembering my bargain, Leatherhead's warning, the Beast's territorial nature. Nope, I don't care. I _don't care_ about any of it and I _won't_ stop. That's my _brother_!

I burst out of the tree-line to absolute chaos. The bandits, those that are still standing, are fighting all around me. I can see Leo in a knot of at least five of them, attacking for all he's worth. Not far from him, Casey and April are each trying to hold off a few, and wow! They've really improved! And there's Master Splinter, rounding out sort of a protective perimeter. Around…

Oh, ancestors, no!

Mikey's on his knees beside Raph, holding his head in his lap. A Raph who isn't moving at all.

One leap of my bo and I fly over the whole crowd to land beside them.

"Don!" Mikey's eyes are wide and wet.

No time for you, bro. I look over Raph and take in the grisly wound in a glance. Oh, shell. There's a sword sticking out from his upper thigh. The blood is running from it like a waterfall. I know it takes only moments after a blow like that for a body to bleed to death. And he's already been bleeding several moments. The sword still embedded in place is probably the only reason he's not already dead – it's holding back some of the bloodflow. But he will be soon!

No!

I shove Mikey away without even looking up. I need space! I tear at my root-woven coat, which disintegrates at my will. I drive the end of my bo into the ground and wrap myself around it, clutching it between my thighs and feeling it run up along my plastron and my cheek. I reach around it and put one hand on either side of the wound in Raph's leg. The words come to me without conscious thought. The bo gets unbelievably hot as it pulls energy from the earth itself and the protective sigil I cast at our house not far from here. It draws that power up through the bo and into me, spilling in at every place I touch the bo, every inch of skin and plastron scale that I can get close enough. The heat bursts from my hands and Raph's leg flares up as though I had dropped hot coals on it.

"Michelangelo!" I can feel the strain in my body is leaking out in my voice but I don't have time to worry. He steps close, but this time doesn't touch me or Raph.

"D…Donnie?"

"When I give you the word, pull the sword out as fast as you can."

"Okay." The small part of my brain not totally focused on saving my brother's life is aware that Mikey's voice is calm and steady now. Trusting.

Come on Raphael. You can't die on me! Not now! The power of the alchemy has slowed the blood-loss, but the real test is here. Thank all the ancestors I've had plenty of time to study Leatherhead's alchemical healing techniques. One more infusion of energy, and a whisper of luck.

"Mikey, now!"

He doesn't hesitate – he reaches over and draws the blade out in a single, smooth gesture. The instant the sword is free, I close my hands over the wound and begin pouring all my power into it. I draw all the strength I can from the earth, shoving it through my bo, my body, my hands, willing Raph's leg to knit closed and the blood to stop.

My hands are pounding in the rhythm of my heartbeat, but I start to feel a slight answering thump – Raph's heart. It's working!

" _Donatello_!"

Oh shell! That's the Beast! He's broken free somehow. I can't be here! I can't…

I can't leave Raph yet, either.

If it costs me my life in the Beast's rage, I'm going to save my brother first.

I can feel the torn flesh beginning to really mend itself, and the pouring blood has stopped. I close up the wound completely, even the skin stretching over where a mark will never show how close Raphael was to death. But I keep pouring energy – Raph's lost too much blood. He could die just from that. He starts twitching under my hands, and I'm sure their burning heat is more than uncomfortable, although this won't leave a mark either. It just feels like it will.

" _Donatello_!"

I know, Beast. I know. Just give me a little more time.

Raph's eyes fly open. He tries to sit up, but thankfully Mikey catches him and holds him still. His eyes blink comically. "Don?"

"He saved you," Mikey sounds like he's crying, but I can't look. I have to finish.

"Don?"

" _ **Donatello**_!"

One more moment…there! Heat washes back at my hands, the sign that Raphael's body has enough blood and balance has been restored. I let go of his leg and start to stand.

Shell! If not for my bo, I'd fall. The world is spinning. Too much energy, too much focus.

A wordless snarling roar sounds. Much, much closer than the last shout.

"Donnie!" Raph is yelling at me and trying to get to his feet.

"Donatello, don't!" I hear Leo cry out.

I permit myself one instant of torture, of wonderful, terrible fantasy. My eyes track over my family, taking in Mikey's expression, Raph's, Leo's, my father's. They're alive. They're okay. And they still love me. The moment is frozen in time and my heart sears with the pain of it. It would be easier, almost, to die right here and now beside them, than do what I must. Than to leave them again.

Easier, but not better.

I close my hand around my bo, still deep in the ground. A word and the earth launches me into the air.

"Donatello!" Oh, Master Splinter, I have so missed your voice. I wish my only memory of it wouldn't be you calling my name with so much fear and pain.

I can't say anything. I should, but I can't. I watch them as momentum carries me high over the edge of the first trees. When they're out of sight, only then do I think about how I'm going to land.

A tree greets me, and it's fortunate that my instincts keep me from slamming into it head-first. But my reflexes are a little blurred with the surge of ache in my chest, so it's not a nice landing by any definition. Still, I manage a controlled fall through the branches to the ground.

" _ **Donatello**_!"

"Beast!" I call back, grateful at least that he's enough into the red of the amulet that he can form words. A stampede in the undergrowth reveals him storming towards me. Even better. He's chasing me here, not seeking me out in the village.

"I'm sorry," I say as I get to my feet, readying my bo.

"Mine!" the Beast growls. The amulet is darkly red.

"I'm here," I say. "I'm here. I haven't left you."

Shell I'm tired. My voice is quavering and I'm heavy on my feet, breathing hard. I would tip the bo to lean on it, but I don't dare. I might need it. I'm also starting to shiver now that my warm layer of roots is gone. I want to sleep for a week, but I can't. I feel as weak as the proverbial kitten, not even a real kitten. Shell, my brain's gone loopy in my exhaustion.

"Mine…" the Beast is growling really deep in his chest, and he's advancing on me. There's a lot more red in the amulet now, but not enough to reach Leatherhead yet. He's moving so slowly and I feel so tired I don't realize he's already inside my defenses.

"Beast," I start to say.

The Beast's head dips and his nose is twitching. What…? Oh, the blood.

"It's not mine," I explain. "I was just sitting in it for a while."

The red winks out abruptly as the Beast turns around. Shell, wrong thing to say! He's going to hunt my family down because he can smell them on me!

"No!" I'm moving and I don't really know what I intend to do, but I manage to get around him. I bar his way with my body. "Leave them alone! I'm still here! You don't have to do anything! It's still your territory!"

The Beast looks down at me and his eyes aren't exactly black. But before I can figure out exactly what they _are_ , his mouth opens. In a flash, he's bit down on my shoulder – _hard_.

I scream.

Oh shell oh shell _oh shell oh shell_ …how the shell am I still awake? Shouldn't this much pain have killed me, or at least knocked me out? I can feel my right hand numbly moving around my opposite shoulder, and, oh shell. The Beast isn't letting go. He's just… _oh shell_. He's biting down and his teeth are in my arm and my shoulder and my shell is starting to crack. I fumble against his mouth with my hand, but I can't think. It's all fuzzy and confusing. I can't feel my left hand and my bo is on the ground and there's blood dripping on my legs. _It hurts-it hurts-it hurts_.

I'm going to die.

"P-please," I realize I'm sobbing. "Please… _stop_." My right hand finds its way to the amulet on his chest and I touch it, clutching at it like that would help. " _Stop_. _Please_ _don't_."

My vision is getting dark.

" _I don't…want to die_ ," I say or think. I can't tell. " _Please, Leatherhead_."

My hand goes suddenly cold.

I sink to my knees, my right hand crawling across my chest to the bloody ruin of my left shoulder. I realize there are no more teeth digging into it.

"What have I done?" comes from above me.

It hurts. I can't think. I'm shaking.

"Donatello, my friend." Strong, gentle arms are gathering me up. And then there's heat, wonderful heat, and the pain is throbbing but it's far away and it's _warm_.

"Hold on for a few more moments. It will be all right."

Safe. I'm safe. And I'm warm and I feel very safe.

"I am so sorry, my friend. I am so very sorry, my poor Donatello."

A sudden pain lances down my left arm and I try to pull my hand away.

"Hold still, Donatello. It will be over soon."

The pain…it's a good kind of pain. Like what I just did for my brother. My eyes swim but I blink and force them to see. The dawn is coming and there's enough light to show that the form looming over me is Leatherhead. The amulet is colorless. His hands are on my shoulders.

Leatherhead is healing me.

I'm blinking stupidly. What's so strange about Leatherhead healing me? Why am I surprised?

Why is Leatherhead crying?

"I'm so sorry," he says, and his voice rumbles with a shaking that isn't in his body.

"L-Leatherhead," I manage.

"Yes, Donatello. I am here. It is almost over."

My thoughts start to come together. Leatherhead is crying. He's sad and sorry. Why? Oh, because I'm hurt. But that was the Beast. But…the Beast has never really hurt me before. He's chased me and tried to slash at me, but this…he bit me. He stopped his rampage and bit me. And he didn't…

My brain leaps to full awareness. This was _deliberate_. If the Beast had wanted to fight me, he would have flailed or thrashed with me in his mouth like a predator. He would have flung me around or rolled with me or something to try to rip my arm from my body. This wasn't a rage. This was a cold, calculating attempt to disable me. The Beast _wanted_ this.

"No," Leatherhead says, and his wet eyes are fixed on me. " _I_ did."

"What…?"

"You have concluded," he says slowly, "that this attack was not the Beast's customary savagery, but a choice. You are correct. But it was not the Beast alone. I was aware enough to know what I was doing."

"You?"

Leatherhead closes his eyes and mutters a few words. The last of the pain fades and he releases me. I feel like collapsing, but I can't do that. I grab my bo and push myself to my feet. Leatherhead has already taken several steps back away from me.

"I have never been so aware of myself as the Beast before now," he says. "I saw the blood, and I smelled another on you. The Beast wanted to kill the interloper who dared touch what was his. And I felt…I don't know what I felt. But you stopped me. And you looked at me."

His face is so crestfallen I move with a hand out to try to offer some comfort but he steps back again.

"We…we wanted to make sure you would never leave us. So we hurt you to keep you where we could control you."

"But you healed me," I find myself shaking my head.

"You called my name," Leatherhead looks like he wants to cover his face he's so broken and curled in on himself. "And I woke from the Beast and realized what we had done."

He flings out an arm and points behind me. "Go Donatello!"

"What?"

"Go back to your family!" His voice is harsh and his eyes are closed and his face is drawn up in pain, but the amulet is still colorless. "I release you from our bargain. Go back to them. Go now!"

"No." My heart was leaping at the words, but I feel steady and sure even though it hurts to say more than my arm ever did. "No. I won't."

"Donatello – " he begins.

"No," and I step forward. Leatherhead actually looks like he expects me to strike him and he recoils. Instead, I bow at the waist. "I betrayed you tonight," I say. "I disobeyed you and went to my family. You warned me of the consequences of that. I do not blame you for your actions."

"My friend," Leatherhead shakes his head. "This will happen again. Perhaps not for the same reason, but the Beast will harm you again someday. And I…I do not ever wish to see it again. If you leave now, I will not pursue you. You may have your freedom."

"No," I say again, straightening up. "I want to go home, but my place is here. My duty is here. I will not leave you to the Beast, Leatherhead, no matter what he does to me. It was my lapse that brought this on us. It is not your fault, but mine. I am the one who betrayed my oath to you."

"I don't care about fault," Leatherhead says sadly. "I don't want you to be hurt. I will do anything to prevent ever harming you as the Beast again."

The sun is rising, and the air is extremely cold. But somehow my mind feels clear like it has never been before. I see with a new perspective, new eyes. A beam of light arrows through the trees between us like lightning, highlighting the suddenness of an idea that comes to me. An idea I cannot believe has never crossed my mind before. That moment of clarity makes me smile.

"Then let us make a new bargain," I tell him, smiling more gently at the confusion and shame in my friend's eyes.

"I am not master here," Leatherhead rumbles, slumping and defeated. "Say what you will. I can deny you nothing."

"I will remain with you," I tell him firmly. "And I will guard you as I have. But."

He looks up at the sharp certainty in my voice. I smile even more broadly. Yes. _This_ is what is right.

"One day, we will _both_ return to my family. Our bargain stands until we find a way to break your curse."

"Oh my brave, selfless Donatello," Leatherhead sighs sadly. "I have misled you."

Huh?

"The Beast is not my curse," he says. "I am his."

I...

Uh...

"I must return to my domain. You...I wish you would take your leave and never return. But you must do as you will."

What can you say after something like that?

I don't know. I really don't know.

Leatherhead won't look at me, but he opens the ground and waits. I know he's thinking I shouldn't, and I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't too, but I do anyway – I step to his side to descend back to our underground world together. Even if this isn't the right thing to do, leaving him would be even worse now, somehow.

The instant we're back in the tunnels, my exhaustion catches up to me. I feel numb and slow and clumsy, and at some point I stop paying attention to Leatherhead. I can't. Some part of my brain whispers words like "shock" and "overuse of alchemy" and "blood-loss" and they all sound like good explanations. I stumble to my room, barely cognizant of the shadow that follows me. I practically fall into the warmth of my bed.

"I wish you had never come, Donatello," I hear Leatherhead whisper. "I wish you had never come."

Too bad. Besides, being here has probably saved my life and my honor, and because of that, Raph, too.

Leatherhead huffs. Did I say that out loud? Probably. Oh well.

Sleep.

I dream of my father.

Master Splinter is with me in the dojo. He doesn't say anything. But he's demonstrating a move I've never seen before. It's an odd sort of kicking-block that ends in a strike and an over-arm throw. I feel myself falling into formation and repeating the move again and again.

I wake really confused. It takes me a few moments to figure out why I'm asleep so late, why I feel so tired and hungry. I'm definitely hungry. My stomach is howling like some kind of monster.

The Beast! Leatherhead! Shell!

I look down at my left shoulder, but the healing Leatherhead did seems to have taken in full. There's not even a break in the skin. But he didn't build up my blood the way I did Raph's – he pulled away too soon. Hmm. It's easier to just go eat a bunch of food now than to restore my own blood with alchemy. I've always been a quick healer, and other than feeling a little faded and weak, I'm otherwise fine.

But I have a twist in my gut that tells me Leatherhead probably isn't. I throw back the covers to climb out of bed.

Yuck! I fell asleep in my earthen boots and now there's mud everywhere in my bed. Oh, that is _disgusting_.

I'll deal with it later. Right now, I've got a distressed friend to find.

I grab my bo from where I left it leaning against the bed, and, with a quick thought, scoop up the belt-pouch that has some of my emergency supplies as well. I have no idea what kind of state Leatherhead will be in. Better be ready. But some deep instinct tells me I won't see the Beast now. That this hurt won't drive Leatherhead away, no matter how much it seems like it should.

The pull in my stomach, a kind of leftover Animal innate understanding, guides me to the lab. Yup, there he is. But Leatherhead isn't working at his table or reading in the massive, comfy chair he uses. He's standing with his back to the door and staring into the middle of the room, unmoving.

"You should go," he says lowly as I step into the room. "You still may. I release you. Return to your home, Donatello."

"Not gonna happen," I say. Then, because he isn't lifting his head, isn't turning to me, I feel a little desperate and it comes out in my voice. "Leatherhead, talk to me. You've always said you were cursed. Now you say _you_ are the curse. Please, I want to understand."

"I misled you, it is true. I am cursed with the existence of the Beast, cursed to live sharing my life with a monster. That is what I meant when I said as much. But the truth is that I am a curse cast on the Beast."

"Why wouldn't you tell me that in the first place?" I ask as gently as I can.

"You ask for my great shame."

"If it helps." I approach slowly until I'm at his side. The amulet is still colorless, but Leatherhead's eyes are closed, so it's hard to tell exactly how he's doing. "You know mine. You saved me from my greatest dishonor. Maybe I can do the same for you." I let out a long breath. "I have to try. If you can let me, I have to try."

"Donatello," he sighs. "You are too stubborn and too kind for your own good."

"Yup," I smile.

Leatherhead still doesn't move, lift his head, or open his eyes, but he begins to speak.

"The little I know of my own history is gathered from fragments of memories and a few precious conversations. You know that most Animals are made, not born, correct? Sometimes as a wild outpouring of magic, and other times as deliberate creations?"

I nod – he can't see it, but he doesn't need to. He continues.

"The Beast was born of a wizard's working in a land very, very far away. He wanted a monster to guard his stronghold and to set against his enemies, and, from what I understand, I served in that capacity for many years. However, the more evil a man, the stronger his eventual opponent, and one day a truly honorable and powerful wizard appeared to put an end to him. But he spared me."

I can hear a catch in Leatherhead's voice, but I don't move. He seems like he needs a hug, but more than that, he needs to hold himself apart. I can understand that.

"He did not wish to kill me for being what I was made to be, but he could not leave me as the Beast, either. So he worked his powers on me to give me a fully conscious mind, a conscience, the intelligence of an Animal instead of the pure rage of the Beast. My first memory is opening my eyes and finding my hands around his chest, my claws impaled in his flesh. And he was smiling.

"I lived with him for many years and though I had no gift for wizardry, he was pleased to teach me alchemy in its stead. Those first years, we discovered that the Beast was not banished from me, that the wild and evil powers that had crafted me were much greater than my savior had ever expected. He worked for a decade to try to control it, eventually containing it a little through this amulet."

Leatherhead presses a hand against the stone embedded in his chest.

"But he could not eradicate the Beast entirely. He took to guarding me as you do, Donatello, ensuring I harmed none when I was lost to my baser nature. And with time, my ability to remain myself grew and the Beast faded. For two score of years, I lived mostly as myself, with only a few returns to the Beast. But then, then…"

"Then what, Leatherhead?" I ask gently. His eyes open at last, and I can see pain writ there clear as day. But his eyes are still brown.

"Even wizards do not live forever. By then we had been together for sixty years, but mortality called my only friend home. And the instant the breath passed from him, it was as though all his power abandoned me. I fell into the Beast and woke days later to find that I had…I had…the Beast had…my friend's body…"

Oh _ancestors_. I feel sick.

"I fled. I left the land in which I had lived and sought out a place no one would ever find me, no one would ever be in danger from me. But I could only travel a little ways at a time, and every few days I would feel the Beast rise and it was all I could do to keep myself away from people. But there were days I awoke to myself and found my hands covered in blood and a ruin of a house stood around me and…there would be remains…women and children and…"

He rasps and I realize he's sobbing, but not with his tears and his lungs. Maybe his heart is weeping blood. He takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

"I lived that way for more than a hundred years, journeying as far as I could, trying to find a place where no one was anywhere near, to make sure I had no more victims. I found this place ages and ages ago, and hoped it would remain empty for as long as I lived. But you must know crocodilians are long-lived, and I am not a natural Animal. I appear to have a lifespan beyond any natural creature. After two hundred years, people came to settle this land, and it took so long for me to train the Beast to keep his territorial nature to The Woods and not the towns I could not prevent from being built here. It took so long and it cost so many lives."

Leatherhead opens his eyes and fixes them on me. I step back. The pain in his face, his expression, his gaze, they hit harder than the Beast ever did. It makes something in my chest _ache_.

"I have had eons to study alchemy, to test everything I ever learned from my only friend before you, Donatello, and never have I found an answer. Even the wizard who spared me could not defeat the Beast. I sank a great deal of the wayward power of the Beast into this land to try to weaken him, and it did keep him from trespassing on the towns or the roads, but I have found that I cannot ever leave the Woods. The land is mine, is the Beast's now and if I venture beyond it, the Beast returns, always. I cannot defeat him or drive him away. I can only endure him and pray the monster I am does no more harm until the day my own mortality is answered."

"Leatherhead," I find myself reaching out, and though he shivers as though he is afraid, I put a hand on his arm. "You're not a monster. You're my friend."

"And someday, Donatello," he says, never looking away from me, "you will pay for that friendship when the Beast kills and mutilates you and leaves a portion of your body for me to find while the rest stains my teeth."

"Maybe," I say, and oh shell my stomach is bouncing around in fear and disgust and horror. But I square my jaw and meet his gaze. "But I'm not going to give up that easily."

"Donatello…"

" _No_!" and my shout surprises us both. "No, I won't give up that easily!"

"There is nothing _easy_ about this!" he shouts back at me.

"Good! If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth anything!"

I take a deep breath, then another. I'm a little hysterical, and I'm upset, and I want to run and I want to go home, and I want to forget about this awful story. But I'm a lot stronger than those things.

"Leatherhead, you said yourself you only ever had a wizard for a friend, and that was years and years ago. I'm not a master alchemist and I know that. But I also know that I've got _no other life_ but what I gave you when I came here. So if I have to try for as long as I live to fix it, I'll try. And if it ends horribly," I gulp but continue, "then we'll both know I died doing the right thing. We'll both know I died in the name of friendship."

"Donatello…"

"You're stuck with me, Leatherhead," I manage a smile. "You're stuck with me now and always. And the thing about me? I don't believe in the impossible. There _will be_ a way to free you from the Beast. And I'm going to find it. There is _always_ a way. And I'm not afraid to work until I find it."

"But…"

"You can't talk me out of this," I cut him off. "Friendship is a lot rarer than miracles." My smile becomes a cocky grin I think I learned from Michelangelo. "Some would say the healing you did for me today is a miracle. Some would say this," I gesture to my bo, "is an impossibility. We _both_ know better."

"Yes but…"

"Give it up, Leatherhead." I squeeze his arm and let go, straightening my back and crossing my arms in front of my plastron like the stubborn turtle I am. "We're going to do this and we're going to do this together. I won't end up like your other friend. We're going to set you free no matter what."

I say it with all my conviction. I really believe this. And I really, really need Leatherhead to believe it.

By the ancestors, let's hope I'm right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry to have left you all waiting for this one. I actually got hurt over the weekend – managed to give myself a herniated (aka "slipped") disc in my lower back. I'm still struggling to move around, but I'm finally able to, you know, sit up and look at a computer without having to be flat on my back. Geez. Don't ever be mean to your spine. It'll make you pay for it.
> 
> This is for Cele, who very kindly worried about me and reminded me that I was missed!
> 
> And don't worry – your 10th chapter will be up this weekend no matter what!
> 
> A lot of you have been asking for one thing in particular from this story. I hope this gives you what you hoped to see.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Here is the sample you requested, my friend."

"Thanks," I say, not really looking up. The results of my latest test are a little vague. I wonder if I can get a clearer indicator if I –

"And some food. Which you should eat, Donatello."

My reaching hand closes not on the vial of blood I was expecting, but something else. I look up in surprise. Huh? That's not what I asked for. I thought Leatherhead was bringing me a portion of his blood?

"It's a sandwich."

"Yes, I can see that," I find my face creaking into a smile in spite of myself. "But where's the sample?"

"Eat first," he says. He holds up a small glass bottle, stoppered, filled with a dark red liquid. "You have barely stepped away from that table in three days. You will work better with this if you allow yourself to eat first."

Three days? Really? Seemed like just one. No, wait, I remember falling asleep more than once and waking up really stiff like I hadn't moved in several hours. Yeah, it could be three days. I bring the sandwich to my mouth and take a bite. I wonder how many times I've eaten since I've been here?

"Twice," Leatherhead says with a small grin. "Both times you were more asleep than awake, so I took advantage."

"How do you do that?" I ask around a mouthful.

"Get you to eat while mostly asleep? It's rather simple…"

"No," I shake my head. "Read my mind like that. Leo does it, too. He can always tell what I'm thinking, almost verbatim. How do you do that?"

"Oh," Leatherhead's smile softens. "You are most expressive, my friend. I believe anyone who had cause to spend much time with you would quickly learn to read every string of your heart in your eyes. It takes a swift mind to keep up, however."

Okay, I'm going to pretend I'm not blushing and focus on this sandwich. Yep. That's it.

"May I ask after your progress?"

"Of course!" I wave Leatherhead to a chair. "It's your body and mind I'm investigating after all. You can know anything you want about it." I take another bite and pull down one of the many diagrams I've tacked up all over the wall of my cubbyhole in the lab and hand it over.

"I've been using alchemy to try to determine exactly how you were made," I say, cramming most of the sandwich into my face while I gesture. "The compounds in your body are all organic, enough so that I think you must have begun life as a pure crocodile, then given enhanced size and intelligence later on."

"That would also explain why my base nature is aggressive and mindless," Leatherhead says thoughtfully.

"Yes, but then there's this." I point to a particular area I marked on my diagram of the various spells and components I had already identified. "I'm not sure what it means yet."

"What is this sigil for?"

"I don't entirely understand it," I confess. "When I analyzed the different elements in your body, the working returned a whole long list of things. Most of them I recognized, or at least could find in one of your books. This one…it's familiar, but I can't seem to place it."

"That's why you wanted my blood," Leatherhead nods. "To see if it connects to something there and not just in my skin."

"Basically."

"I understand your eagerness, then," he says, "but you must pace yourself, my friend. You have barely left this table since our conversation."

He's not wrong about that. I don't know what to tell him, though. As soon as I made my promise to find a way to get around the Beast and help Leatherhead deal with his curse, I couldn't stop myself. I'm not even sure why. There's no rush. It might take me years to solve this particular problem. And yet…something is driving me to get this resolved quickly. Almost like…

"Oh!"

"What is it, Donatello?"

Hang on. If you change the sigil, sweep the last stroke to the right instead…

"Donatello?"

Of course! It makes so much sense!

"Donatello!"

I know _that_ tone of voice. Is it…oh shell. Yup. Leatherhead's amulet is turning orange.

"Whatever you found will have to wait," he says, admirably controlling himself in spite of the rage I can see curling inside. I nod and slide off my stool, grabbing for my ever-present bo.

"Let's go."

On our way to the labyrinth, I can't help but think about what I've just realized. Well, guess I was a little bit on the right track when I thought I should start finding out why the Beast was so weirdly protective several weeks ago. Now I've got a much narrower idea of what to try to ask about. Assuming the Beast is feeling chatty today. But, even as I hear the telltale scrape of a much heavier and longer tail lashing against the walls just after the first turn into the maze, something tells me he will be. Something tells me the Beast is very close to the surface of Leatherhead. Or the other way around. Same difference, really.

I turn to the Beast, waiting for the furious attack, and I'm not totally surprised it doesn't come. Oh, the Beast is all too present. But he's not flailing at me wildly.

He does _roar_ , though. Urk. Thanks. I didn't need those ears.

"Hi Beast," I say a little nervously. "Feeling less homicidal today?"

Another roar, but the Beast is still mostly still. I mean, lashing tail and snarling face and claws that could rip me in half, yeah. But otherwise still. And the amulet has stabilized into a bright red. Probably won't go any farther down that dark path today. Perfect.

"Hey Beast?" Yikes. I still get that cold thrill when he stares at me like prey. 'Cause, really, that's most of what I am to the Beast. Prey. I brace myself to run. But I have to ask.

"When you said I couldn't leave, you weren't remembering something from the past, were you?"

"Cannot leave!"

"Yup, I got that," I actually take a few slow steps backwards as the Beast claws the air in agitation. "Before Leatherhead, when you were first, um, yourself, you were more than just a guard dog, weren't you? Er, um, guard alligator?"

He snarls but he continues listening. My confidence grows.

"You didn't just react to threats when they happened. You reacted to them _before_ they happened."

It makes so much sense. I've always known that my brothers and I, not to mention Master Splinter, have a more highly evolved sense for danger. We get bad feelings, and Leo and Master Splinter see visions in their meditations. It's not like knowing the future, but it's above an average animal's awareness of approaching danger. But the Beast was created specifically by someone who needed to exploit that nature. When Leatherhead's mage friend did his work, he pulled some of that awareness away to help build Leatherhead's mind, but he left some of it behind. That's what that weird sigil means.

The Beast was once probably drastically precognitive, able to see danger days or weeks before it happened. He might be less so now, but he's not protective of his lands or of me for no reason. The Beast isn't worried about how people _were_ or what bandits were here _before_. He's reacting to what is to _come_.

"So," I gulp, knowing well that this might push him over the edge, "what's coming, Beast? What's coming that threatens us?"

" _Death_!" the Beast roars angrily. "Intruders and danger and death!"

"Can you be more specific?" Good idea, Donatello. Let's push our luck while he's in a rage. At least we're in the maze, and only a few yards from a good trap.

The Beast's head swivels and he fixes one baleful eye on me. "If you leave me, you will die."

"You said that before. Is that what you meant? Is the danger coming that bad?"

"If you leave me, he will kill you. I will not let him kill what is _mine_!"

_That's_ why he said if I left I would die! Not because the Beast would kill me. Because something else will! Well, that's sort of vaguely comforting, I guess. Something is coming here and the Beast's unusual magical legacy tells him that I am in danger from it. Okay. I can work with that.

"I'm not leaving you, Beast," I say. "You'll protect me."

Okay, now to test something else. I take a few steps forward, closing the distance between us. I don't shy away from the Beast and I don't break our steady eye-contact. It's almost exactly like the last time, when we were up in The Woods and he hurt me, and yes, I know that too well. My body is scared of him, but I've got to try. Plus, I'm ready this time.

"Thank you, Beast. Can you go back and let Leatherhead become you again?"

A shiver runs through the Beast – I can see his scales shudder with it. The red of the amulet flickers.

"Don't leave," he growls lowly. "You will die if you leave me."

"I know," I tell him. "But I'm not leaving. Let go and become Leatherhead again."

Because if what brought the Beast out this time was his concern for me, maybe by telling me about it he'll sink back into dormancy. The Beast is too calm, too talkative for this to be a build-up of the spell's energy. The Beast needed to come forth. Maybe now that he's done what he needed to do, he can go back.

Moment of truth here, Donnie. I hold my breath. I'd cross my fingers and toes but then if this doesn't work and I have to fight I'll be weirdly off-balance. Plus, I've never tried to hold a bo with crossed fingers, and there's a _really good_ reason for that. Only Mikey would try something that silly.

It's working! The Beast is retreating. In a matter of minutes, Leatherhead opens his eyes.

"Are you all right, my friend?"

"Better than all right," I say eagerly. "I've got some new answers!"

-==OOO==-

It turns out I'm pretty lousy at alchemical fortune-telling.

In my defense, it's not something I'd really studied before. I knew in theory it could be done, but it had to do with really unorthodox manipulations of energy, which, if they spin out of control, could nicely relocate a workshop or level a building. My first attempt in our lab only took out one whole bookshelf, and we didn't really need those books anyway. My lack of control might also have something to do with three days of not really sleeping or eating.

So, after that disaster, I agree to go to bed and Leatherhead follows up on what I have learned so far. I feel like I shouldn't be able to sleep, not after that rapid-succession of new information and two different theories successfully tested, but I think I underestimated how hard I've been pushing myself because I only have enough time when I fall into bed to note two things: one, that Leatherhead must have gotten the mud out of my sheets since they're clean, for which I owe him big time, and two, that the bed is really soft…

I wake all at once as though jolted out of sleep by something. My heart is pounding. What the shell? I jump from the bed and dive for my bo, hitting the hallway at a dead run. I careen into the lab.

"Leatherhead, are you okay?" Then I actually look into the room. " _Ancestors, no_!"

It takes every ninja reflex I've ever possessed to stop myself from…I'm not sure what. Launching an attack? Running in terror? Could be either. But my brain is thankfully quicker than my body and spots that the image is just that – an image. Leatherhead is projecting an image on his large mirror.

"Donatello?" he calls, turning away. Gulp. Okay, I can do this. I take a really slow, deep breath, and force myself to walk to his side. But my eyes are fixed on the mirror.

"Is this what the Beast fears?" I ask in a voice that is all too small suddenly.

"Yes," Leatherhead says. "It took me most of the last day, and I had to use my own blood sample to tap into what the Beast sees in the future," he explains. I can feel that he's being logical for my benefit. Thanks, big guy. "Once I had the idea and a means to tap into the precognitive powers of the Beast, it was much easier to concentrate the energy needed to narrow down the Beast's nebulous fear and gain some control over the ability to view it in detail."

Leatherhead puts a warm hand on my shoulder. "My friend…I do not know who this is…but I can hypothesize…"

"You're right," I tell him heavily, my eyes locked forward. "If you think that's the man I cursed when I lost my honor. You're right. The man who _murdered_ Master Yoshi. The man who _almost killed_ Master Splinter. The man who gave me the scar you healed. It's _him_. That's the Shredder."

He looks _terrible_. The Shredder is marching through a rocky place, though there aren't a lot of surrounding details visible in the image. The Shredder himself is very clear, though. I'm kind of amazed he's still alive. I can see the edges of his armor, at the throat or the wrists, and where that armor has been burned onto his flesh, leaving horrible, blackened, raised burns. He walks stiffly, and I can tell he is trying not to move his abdomen around. But, wait…it's been a _year_. _Almost two years_. _How the shell_ …?

"My friend," Leatherhead says gently, "that may well be the Shredder as you know him, and it may well be that this Shredder did those things. It is obviously this Shredder that you cursed. But you are mistaken."

"I am?" How is it even possible that he could still be alive after all this time? I can't even…oh shell.

"He may be your Shredder," Leatherhead says, "but that is not a man."

He stretches to where sigils are inscribed all around the edge of the mirror. As he touches one, the image shifts. I can tell he's used a sigil that translates roughly as "truth" to force the mirror to show us what really is, not what we would see with our eyes. And looking now, I have to think it was easier looking at the illusion version and not what truly walks out in the world..

He's a demon. The Shredder is a demon.

_The Shredder is a demon_!

He would be hard to describe and I'm looking at him, but there's no humanity here, that's clear enough. His body is vaguely man-shaped until you notice all the extra tendons and lumps and bone spurs, and that's not counting the armor that is fused to him, even in this view of him. But his face is the worst, because I can see it without the helmet. His eyes are strangely round, bulging from beneath a heavy brow that is studded with horns or teeth or something. Beneath the long and pointed nose, his mouth is just a mass of teeth, some thick and heavy, others eerily thin like blades of grass frozen in a wicked curve. Most of them jut outwards. And there are more sharp horns (and teeth, those are _definitely_ teeth!) crowning his scraggily-haired head.

"An _oni_ demon," I breathe and I try to make sense of it. "He was a demon all this time?"

"So it seems," Leatherhead agrees. "Does it mean the same thing to your honor that the curse you laid was upon a demon and not a man?"

Oh shell! I don't even really hear his question. Something awful is connecting in my mind and I quickly search the ring of sigils for the right one and touch it as Leatherhead did, changing the vision again. Now it shows the demon as a shadow, but illuminates the alchemy bound to him.

I hear Leatherhead take in a low gasp. Yup, I'm right there with you buddy. Because _that_ is probably not good for anybody. I can see the curse now, hovering around the Shredder's body like a ghost. But when I crafted that backlash into Master Yoshi's armor, I never considered what would happen if my own energies and alchemical powers were brought into a union with demonic energies. Now I know. And it is _not_ pretty.

"He's feeding it," Leatherhead says beside me. "The very nature of his being is causing your curse to grow, like a wildfire driven by a windstorm. It was formidable before – now, augmented by a never-ending cycle of violence and savagery and evil, that curse has more power than all the alchemical working a hundred masters could produce in a _lifetime_."

"And it will only get worse." I want to sit down, but I hold myself steady. "It's ripping him apart, body and soul, but because he's a demon, it won't kill him. He must be nearly _incoherent_ with it."

"And this is what the Beast fears."

"Because he's coming for _me_ , Leatherhead. He has to." My brain kicks itself to a full sprint. "He's a demon. He might not know alchemy, but he knows magic. And all the laws of magic are the same for this sort of curse. The only way that curse goes away, the only relief he'll ever find is if he dies or I remove it. No other alchemist but the one who cast it can control it now."

"And so he is searching for you," Leatherhead finishes. "My friend, you are in very, very grave danger."

Yeah, I got that part, but that's not what I'm thinking about. I turn away from the mirror and face Leatherhead with a quaking heart.

"My _family_ is danger, Leatherhead. It's taken him a long time, but he's finally figured it out. He lost track of my family after our battle. And he probably tried to get some other kind of help from another alchemist, but it wouldn't have worked. Anyone else would have failed, probably told him the same thing he already knew– that only I can lift it. So now his only hope is to find that family of turtles that was present when he was cursed and do whatever it takes to get _me_ to remove it."

"And he is tracking you," Leatherhead says. "My estimates show that he is less than a week from The Woods."

"And if he doesn't find me when he gets here, he will...he'll..." No, this is not a good time to panic. "Leatherhead, I've got to do something! I have to warn them, protect them! Something! There's no way for them to know the Shredder is coming for them!"

"You can't leave," Leatherhead rumbles, and I see that his yellowish amulet is getting cloudier.

"I _know_." I turn away from him and I must be channeling Raph because I slam my fists down on a nearby cabinet. I'm shaking and I can't tell if it's anger or fear. I don't think it matters.

"My friend," Leatherhead says quietly behind me. "I understand your position. Were I...able...to release you, I would. But you know I cannot actually say anything like that."

I peek over my shoulder. He's holding onto the yellow, but only just. I nod. I don't trust my voice.

"If you can think of any solution, you have my permission to try," he manages. Then he slams one hand into the mirror with too much strength, cracking it and breaking the vision of the demon. But I don't turn around, not even when he brushes past me to leave the lab. The amulet was still yellow, so I assume he's going to try to work off the Beast on his own this time.

And I can't seem to move. I can't go after him, not now. I need to go home. I need to warn my family, warn the village, do _something_. I can't just sit here and wait for the Shredder to come! If he catches my family unawares, there's a whole village of hostages for him to work through before he gets to them. And if they hold out, I can only imagine what he'll do to them to get them to tell him how to find me. And they don't know he's a demon.

Shell! They don't know he's a demon! No wonder Master Splinter and I failed so spectacularly against him! Demons are unbelievably strong and fast and this one is a master in his own right. It was only the curse that saved me from him, and Master Yoshi saved Master Splinter. If my family tries to fight him not knowing that, he'll kill them all. Unless he leaves them alive and...ancestors...no. No. No! I won't let that happen!

I've got to think of something.

Wait. Leatherhead said that if I thought of something...wait. I turn over his exact words in my mind.

"Ancestors honor you, Leatherhead," I breathe aloud. I understand what he did now. He couldn't bring himself to actually give me permission to leave – that would rally the Beast too much. But he talked around it as best he could. He gave me permission to find a way to leave without setting off the Beast.

Okay, Donnie, time to put that brain to work.

-==OOO==-

"Donatello?" Leatherhead calls softly as he enters the lab.

"Over here," I call back. I have been keeping myself in a half-state of meditation for the last few hours. I know the Beast is still highly precognitive, but I'm hoping if I keep my mind a little apart he'll find it harder to anticipate. Plus, Leatherhead's still in charge. I'm going to have to do this _fast_.

Leatherhead follows my voice to a back corner of the lab where there had probably once been a sort of closed alcove for experiments that have to be done in a controlled space, but I'd cleaned it out. I'm sitting on a big jar at the edge of the alcove.

"Are you all right, my friend?"

"I'm fine," I tell him. Then, because I can't do this without saying _something_ , I take a breath and stand up to face him. "Thank you, Leatherhead. Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for giving me a life and my honor."

"Your honor was never mine to give," he says gently, his eyes warm and knowing. The amulet is colorless. It was green when he entered. "And as for the rest, it is I who should thank you for your friendship and your care."

"You can do that later," I tell him with a smile. "Promise."

"I will hold you to that," he replies, and there's a glint of something hard and solid creeping into his voice. "But until then, I believe you wish me to examine this alcove quite closely?"

"If you would, please."

Now it's all speed. As Leatherhead steps across the threshold of the area, I react. I slam my foot into the ceramic jar I'd been sitting on while one hand slaps a sigil on the wall and my other arm is busy drawing my bo to touch it to another sigil just over Leatherhead's shoulder.

The alcove itself constricts tightly, shrinking in size at my command and pinning Leatherhead in place, closing around him even as he spins to face me, the amulet beginning to glow. But while my bo had activated the sigil that tightened the alcove, the one I had touched with my hand had brought a ward to life not unlike the one on this room, one that cannot be crossed unless specifically released.

"Donatello..." he growls, and I can see the Beast surging to the forefront. But after all this time, I am much, much faster than he is.

The jar had held a fair quantity of water, not enough to fill the alcove at its previous size, but enough to fill it now that it is smaller and Leatherhead's body has begun to grow. I sweep at the water with my bo and, like in the forest above not long ago, it slams into the alcove and freezes hard. The Beast is locked in ice and stone, warded like the lab itself not to answer to his connection to the land, and perfectly contained.

And, since I had more time to prepare, the whole alcove starts to glow slightly – there are dozens of sigils inscribed within to ensure that Leatherhead's body will be utterly safe, neither harmed by the cold nor by hunger nor by lack of air. It is the closest an alchemist can get to stopping time. A perfect prison for a Beast that can be held by nothing less.

I still feel guilty, looking at the angry, and maybe betrayed, look on the Beast's face. I know Leatherhead gave me permission for this, and he knew perfectly well what would happen when he went in there. He trusted me with his life without a moment of hesitation, as I have trusted him all along. But it still feels wrong. I guess I'm not surprised. I never do seem to do things completely rightly, after all.

"I know I'm sort of breaking my promise," I say softly. "I am leaving here when I told you I wouldn't, and you know why. You know I have to." I sigh. "But I'm not breaking the part of the promise that really matters."

I touch the cold surface and look up at his unseeing eyes. "I'm still yours, Beast. Or Leatherhead. Either way. I promise. I'm still yours. And when I get back, I'll keep my other promise and make things right for you. And we'll go home to stay."

Something feels thick and harsh in my throat. "Be safe, my friend. I'll see you soon."

Ninja don't cry. Not even when we leave.

Sometimes I'm not a very good ninja.

-==OOO==-

It takes me a couple of hours before I actually leave the underground lair, and I really am not procrastinating at all. No, really. I'm not. I'm not in the slightest bit nervous about facing my family again or having to see if they can forgive me for my little disappearing act last summer. Well, and for everything else. Nope, not a bit. And if I keep saying it, maybe it'll be true before I get there.

But there's other things to do besides dwell in self-doubt. I end up packing myself a massive bag, cramming it full of everything I think I might need in the fight ahead. It weighs an absolute ton on its own, but thankfully alchemy makes everything easier. And lighter. I suppose if I wanted to take the time I could even reduce the size of the items I'm packing, but that wouldn't be worth the hours it would cost. I only have a week between now and when the Shredder arrives in Manha'tan. But I also don't want to be running back here every time I realize I need a pre-worked item or a book or a sigil reference. The bag I end up filling is easily up to my mid-plastron when I have it standing on the ground, but alchemy makes it weigh a tenth what it should. It's still bulky, but manageable.

I also check on Leatherhead before I go, but all is well. The seals are all holding, and there's no sign of even a little bit of degradation or weakening. Good. Because this thing has to hold for a week. Or I'll have even more problems than I already do, and I really don't need that, thanks ever so.

And then I'm off, cutting myself a path to the forest floor and making my way home. It's near the end of the night now, my daily rhythms being pretty well mixed up after the last few chaotic days. In fact, I'll probably arrive at Manha'tan right around dawn. The dawn comes late in winter, but my family will still be getting up right about now to go down to the dojo for morning practice. It's not cold enough yet to keep everyone inside for the day.

So that means there's only one way to do this.

When I reach the edge of The Woods, I swing around the village so I can emerge closer to our house than anywhere else. I drop the bag a few strides into the trees, concealing it in a bush. I can't meet them with this massive thing on my shell. And...if there's any chance they'll reject me, I'll be able to retrieve it later.

Don't think about that.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I'm such a mix of emotions I don't even know what to feel. I'm numb with the anticipation and fear and hope and dread and longing. Ancestors, please don't desert me now. Please don't let them reject me. At some rational level, I don't _think_ they will, but there's nothing rational about everything that's happened, everything I've done.

I start moving into the clearing. It's dark enough that there are plenty of shadows to hide me, and from the glow of the forge spilling out over the light snow, I can tell they're already gathered for practice. I find myself moving silently, fear enhancing my desire not to be heard. The dojo's big door is open a little, not all the way, but enough to capture the first rays of dawn as they begin to creep over the trees. Still meditating before training, then. It's pretty cold, though, so they won't meditate for long.

I can feel the shift in the air when Master Splinter opens his eyes to signal the end of meditation. Even here, outside, around the corner, months since I've been a part of this life, I can still feel the pull at my soul that says my sensei is summoning me back to him.

It's now or never.

I step to the doorway and let the light of the forge illuminate me.

I think if I could just stand here and look at them forever, I would be happy. To see them, to never be where I couldn't see them again, it would be enough. Master Splinter sits, his back perfectly straight, in front of the Hamato symbol on the far wall. Ranged in front of him are my brothers, all just stirring as they rouse themselves from meditation. We've always sat before our father in a straight line, Leo at the left, nearest our sensei's right hand as befits his place as eldest. Raph has always taken the other end in spite of being second in age (or maybe just to spite Leo), and my place was between Leo and Mikey. Behind them sit April and Casey, also waking out of meditation. But there's a gap where I should be. They...they left a hole in their formation for me.

Master Splinter's eyes rise to me. Just breathe, Donnie. Just breathe.

I see it like a wave breaking over them. First Leo, then Raph and Mikey, they tense as they realize Master Splinter is looking beyond them to the doorway. April and Casey glance at each other, but no one turns around. None of them disrespect their sensei and break from his discipline. And neither can I. I am an outsider, but I still can't speak. A lifetime has drilled the rules of the Clan and of honor and of the ways of the ninja into me.

But I can bow. My heart is in my feet, but I bend at the waist and drop my eyes.

"Donatello."

I start to speak before I can think about that voice and what feelings might be expressed in it. "Honorable sensei, I have come to bring a warning of danger. The Shredder is and always has been a demon, and he is coming here."

It's a tenth, a _thousandth_ of the things I want to say. But if they can't hear another word from me, they will know the most important thing.

"How much time do we have before he arrives?"

Oh, thank you for focusing on that, Master! I'm not sure what I'd do if he asked about me instead. I still can't look up, though. "A week at most, sensei."

"And what is it he seeks?"

Shell. That's harder to answer. But I don't hesitate. "He seeks me, sensei, to force me to remove the curse I inflicted upon him."

"Then what is your desire, Donatello?"

Huh? That surprises me enough that I do look up, breaking out of my bow. I straighten up, my eyes roving over the others. My brothers have turned, but I can't let myself focus on their faces, not now. April and Casey are staring at me, too, and I can't help but see the tears on April's face out of the corner of my eye.

"You did not have to come here, Donatello," Master Splinter says, and now he rises slowly. "You could have gone to him alone."

Um. I guess I never thought of that. My mouth feels dry.

"Why did you come here to warn us?" He's moving towards me now.

"I..." I take a breath and feel my eyes burning. "If I went alone, no matter what happened, there was no way to ensure he wouldn't come here anyway to punish you for what I did to him. If I removed the curse, if he killed me, however it ended, there would be no way to make certain he didn't keep coming for you if I couldn't defeat him. I..." gulp "...I couldn't let him hurt you."

"And what of the Beast?" Master Splinter stops before me, staring at me intently, but his face is otherwise neutral.

"I still have a promise to keep to the Beast," I say, "but I have not left him in dishonor. I was given permission to leave for this, to warn you and protect you and..." my breath hitches "to help you fight if you want me. The Beast will wait for me."

"Is the Beast your master now?"

"No!" I say a lot more forcefully than I mean to. But my sensei's eyes look so sad. "No, Master Splinter. I have no master and no Clan but any you deem me worthy to claim from you."

My eyes close. I can't help it. It's just too much. I'm not sure I can keep standing here. I'm not sure I can get another word through my throat without it clogging. Maybe I shouldn't have come. I can't...

"Then I welcome you, Hamato Donatello."

My eyes fly open. Master Splinter is smiling and his eyes seem wet. He reaches up and touches my chest, spreading his warm hand over where there was once a scar and it is now gone.

"My son."

There's a riot of shouting and a rush and suddenly I'm somewhere in the middle of too many arms and hugs and my face is pressed into a wet shoulder, except, no, it's my face that's wet. It's warm and chaotic and I'm swept away in it and nothing else matters.

Nothing else has _ever_ mattered but this.

-==OOO==-

"Hey."

Wha...? Oh. "Hi Mikey."

How did I miss the loudest ninja ever at my door? I guess I was lost in thought. Oh, or asleep. I was asleep? Well, it's really dark out, so I guess I must have been. Everything's happening so fast. A day ago I was still underground with Leatherhead, finding out about the demon Shredder on his way here. And now I'm back in my old workshop, marveling at all my simple tools. I know I should be helping prepare for what's coming – everyone else is.

After I explained everything of what I know about the Shredder, my family got down to work. Leo and Master Splinter are upstairs, meditating in the hopes of being able to learn something about the approaching threat in their visions. Raph took off on Hothead to see if he could get down to Liberty in case someone had news – with the Beast out of commission and The Woods therefore passable, he'll make it there and back before dawn given how fast they are together. April and Casey went to start warning the village that there's trouble coming; we'll have to do something for the civilians when we know what we're up against. But that's later. For now, everybody told me to "just relax," and so after reacquainting myself with my forge, Professor, and just being _here_ , I find myself in my workshop with too many thoughts swirling to make sense of any of them.

"It's...kinda weird," Michelangelo says, poking his head in the door. He's carrying a lantern, which reminds me to poke my sigils that light up the room properly.

"What is?" Mikey is shifting from foot to foot, looking awkward. What the shell, bro? "Come in here," I say, turning from the table and waving at the little cot that was my bed more often than my real one in Leo's room. "You don't have to hang out in the doorway like that."

"It's just," he says, bouncing into my workshop and pulling his feet under him as he gets comfortable on my cot, "you're here again. You know? It's been months, and now you're here!"

"It is pretty sudden, I guess," I say. "Even if I don't think I ever really left." I glance around the room. "It sure doesn't _look_ like I left."

The workshop is exactly as I left it more than half a year ago, except that I can tell it's been cleaned regularly. This wasn't a space my family closed off, or remade. They treated it like a shrine. I'm not sure how I feel about that, actually.

I shake off that thought and point to the cabinet I had been working on. "You guys didn't even finish this? It was easy. Any of you could have done it, and April would have had a spot for her nicer mugs."

"Well, excuse us for not being all Mr Fix-It-Turtle," Mikey grumbles at me. "I mean, we looked at it all. But we just didn't think..." He trails off.

"Mikey?"

"We couldn't be _you_ , bro," he says, and his ever-laughing face is drawn up in a way I don't like. It makes me want to poke his cheeks to see where he's hiding that smile of his. "We couldn't make everything work out the way you do. And even if we _coulda_ done some of it, what makes you think we woulda _wanted_ to?"

"I guess...but...I mean..." Yeah, genius-level intellect Donnie? Nice. I start over. "When I left I knew it would be hard on you guys. It was hard on me too." I gulp. "Leaving that night was the hardest thing I've ever done. I...I didn't figure I'd ever see you guys again."

"Dude, there are _unhatched goldfish_ who know you went there to die," Mikey says, and the strangeness of the humor in his words and its total lack in his face makes my stomach turn.

I don't lie to my brothers, though. Not about this. "Yes I did."

"If it weren't so bone-headed _stupid_ , I might almost have maybe been a little bit proud of you," Mikey accuses me with a weird mix of anger and sorrow. "I mean, it's definitely, bar-none, the _dumbest_ thing you've ever done, bro. I thought we were past all that stuff." He gulps for a moment but then glares at me. "But I gotta hand it to you. That took real guts. To reclaim your honor, all our honor, like that."

"I didn't have a choice," I protest. At this storm gathering in Mikey's face, though, I hold up a hand. "I didn't think I had a choice _then_. I...I'm starting to think differently now."

"It's about time!"

"The rules about honor aren't for when they're convenient, you know." Now I'm glaring. "They're for when everything falls apart. Integrity doesn't mean anything when it's easy. It only means something when you're tested. When it's hard."

"And what does family mean?"

It brings me up short. Mikey curls his arms around his knees, not holding himself for comfort, but more like he's holding himself still, like he can't let himself move or he'll do something that gives him away. I know better than to interrupt him now.

"Leo said once that he told you we cared more about you than any old honor or Bushy rules or anything. That was true before what happened to Master Yoshi, and it was sure as shell true afterwards. Maybe," he lets out a long breath, "maybe we didn't _know_ it before, but we know it now. Maybe it was easier to say that honor was more important before we knew what we'd be losing." His eyes come up and meet mine. "Well, we know it now. We know what matters now."

To my horror, there's a tear gathering under his eye.

"So...I'm sorry it took so long to tell you." Mikey scrubs angrily at his beak. "But we know what matters now. You can come back now."

"I...I did come back," I say.

"No. You haven't been you since you woke up after the Shredder hit you. I don't know where you put the real Donnie, but I want my brother back. Okay? We know now and we won't get it wrong again. We won't ever pretend like honor is more important than you to us. You can come back now."

I find myself moving without a whole lot of say over it, dropping to the cot and leaning against Mikey. I bring our heads together and shove my temple against his.

"I'm sorry, Michelangelo. I'm sorry I hurt you and I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I...I don't think the way I used to anymore. I," my throat closes unexpectedly, but I whisper fiercely, "I don't want to die anymore."

"Good." Mikey nudges my head sharply. "'Cause I don't want you to die, either. Not ever. And I don't want you to go away."

"I will go back to Leatherhead after we beat the Shredder," I warn him. "I have a promise to keep. But I'll come home again as soon as I can."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Swear on your shell and the egg that hatched you? Eh, but who cares about some old rotten egg shell that's probably been crushed to dust by now. Swear on your big brain?"

That makes me laugh and I feel the sorrow that was weighing on both of us beginning to lift. He's such a goofball. "Sure, Mikey. I swear."

"Good," he manages a real grin at me, and I return it, "because Raph is _awful_ at fixing all the stuff people bring here! You can't even imagine the first time somebody asked him to come to their house to make their stove work! He practically burnt down a chicken coop, and it was all the way across the yard!"

"I'm sure he's not that bad," I laugh. "But I'm glad you guys missed me." I can't say it, but I think it would break my heart if they hadn't.

"We did."

Huh? I look up. Leo is standing in the doorway, smiling at us fondly. What the shell? How long have you been standing there, bro?

"Long enough," he answers me, and I huff. "But Mikey's right."

"Yeah!" he cheers. "About what?"

"We missed you, Don." Then he smirks and looks just like I always see him – confident, noble, hyper-aware, and protective. At least...that's how he always used to look before everything changed. It's amazing how much the shadow in my heart has cast darkness over everybody else. And it's finally lifting from us all. Thank the ancestors.

Leo's smirk widens to a real smile. "Also, Raph really is that bad. He can make stuff, but he'll never be allowed to fix anything again anywhere in town. Not after what he did to Casey's front door."

"I can hear ya, Leo! And it's not like you did any better with April's flue!"

My last brother comes stomping up behind Leonardo, scowling. I guess I really was asleep for a while! On the other hand, I did pull one full all-nighter, probably more like two with a nap in between in the last two days, to say nothing of the research days before. Raph looks as tired as I feel, actually. He's still sticky and dusty from the trip.

"What's the news from Liberty?" Leo swings to business like a door closing on his sense of humor.

Raph's scowl is darker than the night outside. "It's bad, guys."

"How bad?"

I feel a sinking in my stomach.

"The Shredder's comin' all right. And his army is with him. We've got five more days at most before we're totally overrun."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really have broken up this extremely long and tense chapter. But then I wouldn't be able to leave you with a really, really, really fun cliffhanger at the end! On the plus side, next week I'll put up both the last chapter and the epilogue. And then we'll be done!
> 
> Also, since I think somebody mentioned it – yes, this story does in fact have a soundtrack! And it goes like this:
> 
> "What I've Done" by Linkin Park  
> "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace  
> "Some Nights" by fun.  
> "Phoenix Burn" by Alpha Rev
> 
> Listen to them in that order and it sort of carries you through Donatello's evolution and then Leatherhead's. And "Phoenix Burn" is an awesome, awesome song and you should listen to it and everything else Alpha Rev has ever done. Seriously. Their song "Lexington" spawned one of my longest-ever stories and I still cry when I hear "New Morning."
> 
> Anyway. Here's the big huge chapter that will change everything and leave us with no way back.
> 
> (Also, thank you everyone for your well-wishes. That's doing a lot to make me feel better when my back and I have a disagreement. But I'm definitely on the road to recovery – no worries.)
> 
> Enjoy!

"…And so we have come up with a way to ensure everyone's safety," Leo says, crossing his arms. "Even though the army is numbered less than one hundred, there is no way my family can protect everyone from that many, to say nothing of the demon leading them."

He pauses before the bit that we all know they're really, really not going to like.

"We need to evacuate the town and hide everyone in The Woods until the danger here is over."

Yup, there's the explosion of shouting we expected. I trade looks with Raph. It's amazing how much noise a whole village can make, and there's only a few hundred of us in total. But that's why Leo's suggestion is the only one that will work. Of the people of Manha'tan, there are a very few who would be suited to fighting at all, and only Casey and April have any real training. Most if not all of the men and women are strong and brave, but there's no way to make them ready for an army of trained warriors in four days. The hamlet that rises up with pitchforks and farm tools to defend their homes is a nice story, but these brave villagers are better off bracing themselves to survive the fight and rebuild afterwards.

Fully half of the yelling is declarations of "But we can fight!" and the rest is "The Woods are too dangerous!" Only neither one of those things is true. Leo waits until the worst of the shouting has died down before he gestures to me. I step up and, admittedly, gulp. Most of Manha'tan is here, and a good representation from Liberty, too. Shell. That's a lot of people looking at me. Focus, Donnie.

"The Woods are not currently dangerous," I say. "I have temporarily constrained the Beast in his own domain. He won't be able to get to you." I give it a moment for this to sink in before I follow it up with, "And besides, the place I would hide you is someplace the Beast can't reach. It's the safest place in The Woods for you."

And I outline my plan.

It takes them two hours of yelling at each other, during which Raph has to bellow for people to shut up more than once, until they see the sense of what we're suggesting. But until then, we get a lot of questions, only some of which are reasonable. _No_ , we can't go meet the army where they are and defeat them there – the five of us against an army? Not without an entrenched and prepared position. _Yes_ , we will try to minimize the damage to the houses and fields of Manha'tan, but there's only so much we can promise after all. _Yes_ , we're sure it's a demon coming. _No_ , the wanna-be Shinto priest won't be able to handle him.

Nobody ever suggests giving up my family to the demon to buy the village's safety, which tells me just how much a part of this community my Clan has become.

It takes most of the evening, but Leo eventually proves how much trust he has earned in that both villages finally agree to our plan. They have two days to prepare (and for those from Liberty to travel), after which I will lead them into The Woods to hide them in the safest place I can think of: Leatherhead's livestock cave. It's big enough to hold all of them comfortably, and there is a ready supply of water, food, and even the animals themselves to sustain everyone. It's warded and hidden so that only a master alchemist can find and open it, and it's far enough from either Manha'tan or Liberty that the Shredder's army shouldn't get anywhere near it. Of course, this leads me to an even tougher conversation.

"April," I say, catching her in the kitchen while she's warming up some more cider. Most of the townspeople have dispersed to go home and begin their preparations, but those from Liberty and those who are anxious have hung around her place to talk to my family. I can't blame them for being nervous.

"What is it, Don?" she smiles, but I can see her caution.

"I…you know I think of you like Clan, right?"

"Of course. It's an honor that you all have given me that," she says. "I've been without family for so long, it's meant the world to me to be welcomed into yours."

I fidget slightly. A lot of April's closeness with me is still more friendly than sisterly; I gather she's grown a lot closer to my brothers since I left. I get the feeling they were clinging to anyone who could help them forget the void I left. And April is very like me in more than one way. In particular – she's still untrained, but she's an alchemist.

Which is why I need her. So I spit it out really fast.

"I know you probably want to help us defend Manha'tan and fight the Shredder, but I need you to go into hiding with everybody else."

"Why?" Her eyes are narrowed now. Yeah, she's going to fight me on this, but thank goodness April waits until she has all the information _before_ she just explodes at me.

"I'm going to be leading the people to a cavern underground where they will be safe," I explain. "It's warded inside and out. Only an alchemist can master the sigil to open the door."

"But why would I need to be able to open the door?" April asks reasonably. "Unless…"

Yeah. That. Shell, her eyes are getting wet.

"I don't want to die," I say quickly. "I really don't. I promise it isn't that."

"But you think you will anyway."

"I don't _know_ ," I sigh. "I can't know that for sure. But I also can't leave hundreds of people trapped underground with no way out. The Shredder is going to be coming for me. Me specifically. I can't lock everyone in and not give them the ability to free themselves if I can't come back for them."

"Then teach someone else," April says stubbornly. "Teach someone you can trust."

"It's not just writing the sigil correctly," I argue. "It's also knowing how to invoke will. Even Mikey could be taught to reproduce the sigil, but I don't have the time to teach him about the theory of controlling his will and turning it into an expenditure of energy."

"And you think you can teach me?" April returns. "You know I've only dabbled in alchemy, nothing like what you're describing. Mikey might even be better at it than me."

That's actually true – my brothers aren't alchemists, but all of them know the basics, and Raph a little more than the others. But it doesn't matter. My brothers and I will be busy.

"Not by the end of this week he won't be," I say. "Because you're going to get right in with the others and help me set up the defenses for the village. That's what I need, April. I need you to help me prepare the land for what's coming, and then take that knowledge with you into the tunnels so you can bring the people back safely if we don't return for you."

What was it Mikey said? "Unhatched goldfish" could tell? Yeah, unhatched goldfish can see that she hates this idea. But it's also logical. April's heart wants to be with us, to protect and defend and support us, but her brain knows better. She knows this is our fight, and she will help a lot more people if she goes along with my plan.

I step over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, we're asking Casey to stay behind with everybody, too."

"How come?"

"First, because he's not ready – and don't look at me like that, Master Splinter said it, not me! Second, because if we do fail we need there to be somebody with the villagers who can fight enough to defend them and get them out of here. And third," I glance at her and smirk, "because if he stays with us, all he's going to be thinking about is whether or not _you're_ okay down in the tunnels and he won't be good for anything else."

Ha! Got her to blush.

"I guess that makes sense," she mumbles. Then she forces her embarrassment down and looks at me mischievously. "And who exactly is explaining all that to him?"

I grin. "Raph. And he's probably doing it just about now..."

Right on time, we hear a familiar bellow ring out from the other room. "WHADAYA MEAN I'M NOT READY?"

Maybe we'll give it a minute before we go back in there.

-==OOO==-

Three days before the arrival of the Shredder's forces into our part of The Woods, I am up way before the sun, stoking the fire in my forge. Thank the ancestors for all the extra alchemy I've been learning in the past months with Leatherhead – a few quick sigils and a set of commands and the forge heats in minutes rather than hours. Time is truly of the essence now, and I need every moment I can get.

By sunrise I've gathered almost all the scrap metal in the village and I'm well on my way to creating a series of chains like the protective cord I had employed the first time we met the Shredder. Except this time it's more than one single length with lots of tendrils branching off of the main cord. With approximately one hundred soldiers on their way, one chain won't really do a whole lot.

As I get into the rhythm of inscribing sigils and reciting commands, a part of my mind wanders. Come to think of it, with that many soldiers coming, I'm not sure there's anything I can do that will do a whole lot. I mean, the chain when completed might handle a dozen, maybe as many as twenty, but that still leaves eighty guys, probably heavily armed and armored, against four turtles and one rat. And then there's the Shredder himself. Knowing he's a demon gives us something – all demons have weaknesses. But we won't know _what_ his weakness is unless we find it, and so far Master Splinter and Leo haven't come up with anything useful from their meditations.

Shell. What am I going to do? Sooner or later, my family is going to come in that door and look to me for a solution or a clever idea. Leo leads us, and Master Splinter is head of the Clan and our father and sensei, but this isn't something even our best ninja tactics can handle. We need a strategy, a good one. And I'm coming up empty. They're just blindly following my lead and I don't even…

Wait.

Wait wait wait. It couldn't be…unless it is. Come on, Donnie.

-==OOO==-

"Bro? You in here?"

"Huh?" I blink. "Oh, hi Raph."

"You missed breakfast. And if you hang out in here a lot longer, you'll miss lunch." He steps into the forge. Raph knows me and my work, though, so he doesn't come any farther into the room. He can see all the sigils I inscribed all over the floor around a large black piece of metal I shaped into something vaguely like a bowl and filled with water. But he runs a hand an inch or so above the coiled chains I piled in one corner.

"They're done," I say absently. I'm not actually using the big circle anymore, but I want to get this last note down before I forget.

"Whatcha up to, Donnie?"

One more…got it. I set down the inkpot and look up fully. "I think I know how to help us not get destroyed by the army."

"Glad to hear it, brainiac!" Raph smiles. "'Cause Fearless is going a little nuts trying to figure that part out. What's the plan?"

"Can you go get Leo and Mikey? I'd rather explain it once than have to repeat it. And I'll clear up this stuff," I gesture at the sigils on the floor. Raph nods and strides away; I can hear him shout when he gets to the house, and I wince at the sheer volume. No, of course you couldn't actually go in and ask nicely. Raph never changes.

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting at my primary workbench and my brothers are all huddled in the forge around me. On the drawing board I've pinned up a big map of Manha'tan and The Woods surrounding it.

"Okay," I begin, "so we really have two problems. One is the Shredder, and the other is his army. As long as we think of them as the same problem, we'll never solve it – we'll be overwhelmed trying to stay on top of things. We've got to approach them differently."

"Fair enough, Don," Leo nods. "What do you suggest?"

"I've been focusing on the army itself. I did a little bit of alchemical scrying which, by the way, I'm no good at, so trust me when I say this is the very best I could do on my own without blowing up the forge. But I found out something really interesting. The army is human."

"So what?" Raph asks.

"How many armies do you know that will willingly follow a demon?" I counter. "My scrying showed me that the Shredder hides his true nature from his followers. Which means they don't know he's a demon. And they're not demons themselves. If we can reveal him to them, get him to show his true nature, I bet a bunch of them will either surrender honorably or walk away. Even honorless bandits won't get into it with demons."

"He's right," Mikey says, serious for once. "It's super bad karma to follow a demon. A few real jerks might hang with the Shredder, but most of the army we saw back south were just ronin and samurai for hire. They still go by a code of honor. They won't stick with metal-face if they know he's not human."

"Exactly," I nod. "And a handful we can handle. My guess is that the army itself was probably once Lord Oroku Saki's, and the Shredder is manipulating the Lord to use it, but the people will still be loyal to their Lord before their general. We just have to expose the Shredder for what he is."

"So how do we do that?" Leo wants to know.

I smile. "Easy." And I hold up my newest creation, a single _shuriken_ forged in the shape of a specific sigil. I pass it to Leo. "Hit him with this. Even if he deflects it, the instant it comes into contact with any kind of illusion, the illusion will shatter. It won't hurt the Shredder, but it will prevent him from hiding from his people. And what he really looks like will scare enough of them off, believe me."

"That's awesome, Donnie!" Mikey cheers.

"If I hit him with this when he's still some distance from Manha'tan, will the illusion stay gone?" Leo asks. I nod, and he nods too. "Then we should dispel the illusion as soon as possible. Maybe by the time the Shredder and however many loyal followers he has actually gets here, we won't need much else."

"I thought you'd say that," I say, "so I made you this." I hold out a long, metal staff. As Leo takes it, I reach back and pass out two more, one each to Raph and Mikey.

"What, we gotta pretend to be you now, Donnie?" Raph frowns. "I ain't gonna go around tryin' to be you anymore, you know."

"It's not that," I shake my head, feeling oddly fond at the mix of emotions in Raph's words. "You've seen how my bo allows me to move great distances, right? These will do that. They won't do anything else my bo can do, and you're not alchemists anyway, but they'll give you a lot more distance when you spring off them than anything else. They'll help you get to the Shredder that much sooner."

"Don, that's brilliant!" Leo is grinning and I look away from his bright expression in sudden shyness. "With these, we can get to the Shredder and be back long before he gets to Manha'tan, even faster than if we took the horses. We'll go today, as soon as Master Splinter comes out of meditation."

"How'd you do all this, anyway?" Mikey asks.

"Yeah," Raph puts in. "I ain't complaining because this is great stuff, but it's not even lunchtime. How'd you finish the chain," he pokes it, "make the illusion chucker," he points, "and three bos? You bending time, too, bro?"

"No," I shake my head, and I feel my pleased expression sliding away. "No, I'm just…I can do a lot more now, and more quickly." I take a breath. "I learned it from Leatherhead."

"He's like your buddy now, right?" Mikey asks.

"Yes. He's my friend." I look up and pin them with my glare. "I know what you all think, but Leatherhead and the Beast aren't the same person. They're different. It's not like Raph having a temper tantrum."

"Hey!"

"It's more like if Leo and Raph were stuck in the same body, sharing it."

" _Yuck_!" Mikey sticks out his tongue. "Who wants _that_?"

"Not me," Raph grumbles, still glaring at me for the "tantrum" remark.

"That's why you're going back after we defeat the Shredder," Leo says, understanding. "You're going to help your friend. It isn't the Beast you want to save. It's Leatherhead."

"Yes, exactly."

"So what's the problem?" Raph wants to know. "What's the guy's issue, anyway?"

"Okay, it's like this," I say. I reach across and grab a thin piece of shale, the sort I usually use when I'm designing and need to be able to wash it clean and start over, and my inkwell. "Watch."

My eyes flick to Leo and I can feel him smirk. Whatever. Even if I do take more care than usual as I write "Leatherhead" across the piece. It's not brilliant calligraphy and I really don't care, bro, no matter how much you want to snark at me for it.

"This is Leatherhead," I say, holding it up as the ink glistens wetly. "The stone is the Beast, and Leatherhead is something superimposed on top. If I needed to take Leatherhead out of the Beast, that would be easy. I can do that with alchemy."

I set the shale down and touch a finger to the still-damp ink. A single command and the ink rises from the stone and floats in the air.

"But the problem is that it doesn't have anywhere to go and it can't hold its shape," I say. The ink is mostly still in the air, but it's more just random blobs now than the somewhat-neat writing it was. "If I try to just yank them apart, I'll end up with a pure Beast," I point at the blank shale, "and a mishmash of energy that should be Leatherhead but isn't. Because I can't put it back right once I've pulled it away."

I speak a short incantation and the ink flows to another piece of shale nearby, but it lands in a big smear.

"So he'd be all scrambled?" Mikey asks.

"Basically." I nod. "If the Beast were the curse on top of Leatherhead, this would be easy. But then," I grimace, "if it were that easy, he would have done it himself long ago."

"So what are you gonna do?" Raph scowls at me. "'Cause no offense, bro, but I don't really want to see the Beast like that empty rock, and if your little example is good, there's not a lot of choices here."

I sigh. "And I that's why I don't know what to do. I just…I just don't know how to remove the Beast without destroying my friend."

"You'll find a way!" Mikey grins at me. Then his smile softens into something less bright and more real. "You never let anybody down, Don. And everything you do is impossible until it isn't."

I laugh. "Impossible until it isn't?" I repeat. "I guess so."

"Exactly!" He laughs too. Raph reaches over to scruff his head fondly, and he's smiling.

But Leo isn't. He doesn't say anything, because for once, I can read his thoughts the way he always reads mine. And you're right, Leo. Believing in me is nice, but it won't help. This might _not_ be something I can fix. And any mistakes I make on the way could be fatal to me and Leatherhead both. Yeah, Fearless, I don't like it much either.

-==OOO==-

At noon, Leo and Mikey head off into The Woods to see if they can dispel the Shredder's illusion. I calculate it'll be nightfall before they get to the army's position, and the middle of the night when they get back. Meanwhile, I spend the rest of my afternoon with Raph and April, creating a series of perimeters around Manha'tan with my chains and with other sigils and wardings and circles and everything else I've got hidden in the back of my brain. By the time it's so dark we're using sigils drawn on gloves to see, there's a half-mile of protection in every direction around the village (except for a marked corridor for my brothers to use on their return), and more than that to the south where we think the army will come through. Most of the traps are meant to disable or ensnare, not kill, but there's only so much we can do to avoid bringing death to our enemies.

It's a quiet supper we share tonight – Master Splinter, Raph, and I; April went home and she and Casey are probably cooking up a storm. In the morning, I'll lead the people to the cavern where they'll be safe, and she's bringing a lot of extra provisions beyond what is already in place and what we've told people to pack for themselves. We should still have two days before the arrival of the Shredder, but there's no way we're risking having people still in the village if he comes sooner than we expect, especially with what Leo and Mikey are doing to unveil his true nature to his army.

I'm just about to excuse myself to begin washing the dishes when Master Splinter catches my elbow.

"Sensei?" I ask.

"Donatello," my father looks at me, his dark eyes serious and deep in the warm, low candlelight. "There is something you must know."

"What is it, Master Splinter?"

"I have spent the last few days deep in meditation, attempting to anticipate our enemy. It was my hope that my visions might lend us an advantage for the battle to come. Today, I have received a very clear message."

Raph doesn't move, but I can see him tense, anyway. He and I have never been able to see visions or meditate at that level the way Leo and Master Splinter can. Nobody knows if Mikey can do it – he's never really tried. So I know Raph is feeling the same thing I am – it's a weird mix of relief and worry and suspicion. The visions Master Splinter sees are often correct, but difficult to interpret. It's hard for Raph and I to trust their vagueness when we just don't know how they work. We're a little more practical than the rest of the family, which is kind of funny considering that we're the two who are most familiar with alchemy. But alchemy is real and it makes sense. The visions…how do I know what they are?

"My son," Master Splinter is looking steadily at me, "you know already that when we gave Master Yoshi to the flames, we did not burn his armor with him."

"Yes, sensei."

"What you do not know is what became of it."

"I know you brought it with us," I say slowly. "But…honestly, I haven't wanted to know anything else." There's that old familiar twist in my gut. Shell. Will I ever be able to look at a piece of armor again without that wave of guilt? Probably not.

"My vision suggests that the armor is important to this confrontation, and thus, I wish you to know where it resides. It is in Miss O'Neil's barn, in the farthest stall where she stores her firewood."

I absorb that for a moment before I frown. "Master, don't you think it's more likely that your vision was telling you that this is about the curse? Because it is. I don't know what use the armor is, but the curse is the reason this is happening."

"Perhaps," he tips his head. "But I have done as my intuition bade me, so humor an old rat and let it stand."

"Yes, sensei."

We all pretend to go to bed, but really we're waiting up for Leo and Mikey. Around midnight I give up completely on sleep and make my way to the main room downstairs. Master Splinter is meditating there, and Raph looks like he's napping in a chair. I take a seat in front of the hearth and stir up the fire a little. Why did the Shredder have to come attack us in winter anyway? It's downright mean.

"My son."

I turn to see my father's eyes open.

"Tell me what troubles you."

What _doesn't_ trouble me? But I can't say that to him, so I huff a sigh and answer, "It just…feels so impossible. He's a demon, Master Splinter. He almost killed us both the last time we saw him. He killed Master Yoshi. How…?" I feel my throat catch. "How can we know we'll defeat him this time? We barely escaped before. What if I can't do any better this time?"

"Donatello, you will not defeat any enemy who has already caused you to surrender."

Ouch. That hurts. I gulp and wait.

"It is wise to fear the Shredder's power and prowess, for he is a formidable opponent. However, if you also fear yourself, you will lose the battle before the first blow is struck."

Shell, there's such a lump in my throat. Master Splinter beckons and I move from the hearth to kneel at his feet. He puts a hand on my head.

"My son, whatever happens between us and the Shredder, know that my faith in you is not misplaced. You are exceptional, you and your brothers. Every sword has its breaking point beyond which it cannot stand. If this is to be ours, so be it. I do not fear defeat. I will not court it," he smiles a little, "but it does not preoccupy me. Your heart, however, does."

"Sensei…"

"There is much weight on your shoulders, Donatello, perhaps more than your share. But I know that you are equal to the task. What you have already done is beyond what we could do without you. What you have already accomplished honors you. Be what you are, my son, all that you are. Do not fear yourself or what you might do wrongly. Do what you can, what you must, and we will stand with you. You do not face the Shredder, or any other battle, alone."

I tip my head forward and lean my forehead against his knee. I can't say anything. There's so much bubbling inside my chest, fear and doubt, but it is being outdone by a shining warmth and relief and gratitude. Ancestors, I love my father. And he loves me.

He's right about one thing. Even if we lose, even if we die, we'll have been together.

Less than an hour later, Leo and Mikey come in, stomping light snow from their boots. By then Raph is awake and he and I have been passing the time figuring out if there's anything more we can do in The Woods to prepare.

"It's done," Leo says, offering Master Splinter a quick bow. "It worked perfectly."

"You should have seen them!" Mikey grins. "Seriously, half the army took one look at that freaky face and _bolted_! And most of everybody who didn't bolt only stayed around long enough to figure out which way to ride home!"

"The Shredder's remaining force numbers less than a fourth of what he had," Leo reports.

"Then we can take them," Raph grins. "If our little tricks don't get them first, that is."

-==OOO==-

In the morning, I lead a long column of people out into The Woods. It still takes all the persuasion I can muster, plus April's warm smile, plus Casey yelling, to get everybody down into the tunnels. When we reach the door to the right place, I write the sigil on the wall in ink.

"Okay, April," I say. "Copy that, right here." And I draw a big circle around the right stone.

It takes her two tries, but she gets the door opened. Casey works on shuttling people in while I make the doorway wider and talk April through the various alchemical properties of the room. As I'm describing how Leatherhead set up the troughs to be self-cleaning and self-refilling for the animals, I feel a pang of regret. I wish it were my friend here, helping to teach this and to set it up. I know if I had Leatherhead's assistance I'd have a lot more to offer the townspeople than an underground barnyard for shelter.

"Don," April stops me as I realize I'm rambling, "how long do we wait down here, if you don't come back?"

"A week," I tell her firmly. "It's hard to tell time down here, so I'm going to leave you something."

Next to the entrance, which I've returned to its usual size, I inscribe a complex sigil. When I breathe it to life, it turns a rich golden color.

"This sigil will shine night and day for seven days. On the eighth day, it will turn black. When it stops glowing, you'll know it's the morning of the eighth day and I didn't come back. Then you just need to get everyone out." I repeat my drawing of the door-ward on a stone next to the one April will need and circle the correct spot.

"Are you going to be okay down here?" I ask her and Casey as the last people are fanning out and making places for themselves amid the neat pens and broad pastures.

"We'll be fine," Casey assures me. "Better than you guys for sure."

"Then I need to tell you one more thing," I say softly. I wave them close so I can whisper. "I'm going to set the seal on the Beast to expire in a month, on the night of the new moon. Until then, he should stay locked away, and anyway the Beast can't ever get in here – otherwise he'd have eaten everything in sight long ago."

"But with the new moon…" April trails off.

"He'll be free again. That should give you more than two weeks to get out of here and back to Manha'tan or, if everything's gone really, _really_ wrong, farther to the north than his territory goes. But make sure once you leave here that no one ever comes back. If I'm not here, the Beast will be probably worse than he ever was before."

"I hate this," Casey grits his teeth. "I hate all of it."

"So do I," April agrees, and she gives me a hug. "I hope you don't mind that I don't ever want to use the lessons you gave me to let us out of here. I want to see _you_ at that doorway in a few days."

"Me, too, April."

It breaks my heart to seal the room, and as the stones slide into place I can't look away from April and Casey. What sort of world will they have to come back to when this wall opens again?

But there's a reason I took on this errand alone, and it doesn't have anything to do with Raph spending the morning walking Leo and Mikey through every single trap we set out in the perimeter of Manha'tan and closing our final corridor. I make my way to the lab.

The Beast – Leatherhead – is still frozen in the alcove where I left him days ago. I check every sigil in place and they're all fine. Nothing amiss. But I have to leave a contingency here, too. Just in case.

"I hope you don't need this, my friend," I say heavily.

Then I add a few last symbols to the alcove. I do exactly what I told April and Casey I'd do, to make sure Leatherhead isn't frozen here for all time. In a month, if I haven't returned, he'll be freed. But…I can't leave it at that somehow. He's my friend. He deserves more than to wake up after more than a month and run as the Beast before he returns to himself.

It's hard, and I really don't have the time to do this properly, but I hope I can make something up here. I mix a bunch of sigils together on the wall directly facing the alcove, a whole line of symbols that, taken together, kind of spell out who and what I am. I have already proven that Leatherhead returns and the Beast retreats when I call his name. I'm hoping to alchemically call his name as he wakes out of his frozen state, so the Beast can give way sooner. I'm not actually sure it will work at all, but I feel the sigils come alive with _something_ of myself that steals my breath for a moment even as it sears through my chest.

I just hope it's enough to bring my friend back to me.

-==OOO==-

At dawn the day before the Shredder should arrive, Master Splinter calls me into the dojo alone, leaving my brothers outside. I exchange looks with them – they seem as confused as I am. Raph shrugs at me and Mikey gives me a grin and a thumbs-up. Leo looks…oh, of course, he knows something. Of course he does. Freaking mind-reading older brothers. Leo smirks at me as I pass him and shut the door. It never ends.

Master Splinter has settled himself in his customary spot before the Clan symbol, and I take my place before him.

"My son, there is something I wish to say to you, and while it does not have to be a secret from your brothers, I thought you might be more comfortable speaking to me alone first."

Hmm. I'm nervous now. I wait and let him continue.

"When you appeared before me a few days ago, I was overjoyed. I had long known you were alive and relatively safe, but that is not the same thing as having the evidence of my son before my eyes. I could see the fear you carried, fear of reprisals or rejection. And I feared the same, that honor had bade you take another master, and while I would always be your father and sensei, it troubled me to contemplate losing you in this Clan."

Breathe, Donnie. Just listen. Explode later.

"But you affirmed that you had no master but myself and no Clan but this. So I must ask you now, Donatello, is this because you have no other option, or because you wish to remain Hamato?"

_HUH_? I almost choke on my surprise. "Master Splinter, are you doubting that I want to belong to this family?"

"Answer my question, Donatello."

"I…no, I of course I…" gulp, regain command of words, "I want nothing more than to be Hamato Donatello, Master Splinter. Father." I feel tears prick in my eyes. "You are my family. Whether I deserve it or not, and that's a good long argument for another time, it's all I want. Even when I go back to Leatherhead, even if I fall tomorrow against the Shredder, all I've ever wanted was this."

"Then, Hamato Donatello, third of my sons in age and rank but equal in my heart, I return this to you."

He smiles and I realize he's had something hidden in the fold of his robes. He stretches a hand to me, bearing my purple mask. I take it wordlessly with hands that shake.

"I know why you left it behind, my son," he says softly, "but I would like you to carry it once more as your brothers do. Even when you return to uphold your promise, this will remind you always that you are still part of our family, one of four brothers who are all my sons and students."

I bow over the mask and my heart thumps hard enough that they must be able to hear it underground. Then I sit back up and affix the mask reverently.

I'm really home.

Which is the exact moment Raph shouts a warning. "Trouble, guys! The Shredder's _already here_!"

Of _course_ he's a full day early. Of _course_ the Shredder's here _now_ before we're ready. Turtle luck acting true to form.

Nobody can say we aren't quick to respond, though. I think, honestly, my whole family has been prepared for this exact possibility from the moment I warned them of it. Knowing when your enemy will appear is valuable, but being ready if they don't obey a schedule is _essential_. You won't live very long if you count on bad guys sticking to your timetable.

So it's less time than it took Raph to yell it before Master Splinter and I are outside and shrugging into our fighting cloaks. Raph's up on the roof of the house (and why the shell was he up there to begin with?), pointing to the south. I glance to Leo and Mikey. Oh. That would be Leo's famous intuition again. That bad-feeling instinct. Thank the ancestors for that. We have a few minutes anyway.

"I count twenty fighters," Raph calls out. "Just hitting the first line of the traps now."

"Then let us be prepared to meet our guests," Master Splinter says, and only we who know him best can see the leaping fire in his eyes. Wizened and honorable and serene, our sensei is also a warrior of the finest class, and his blood sings with it right along with the rest of us.

Raph bounds down from the rooftop and we advance through the deserted town to the clear area nearest our lookout tree. The fields here were fallow and so it's a good empty place for this battle to begin.

The first warrior through our maze of traps lunges at us with a shout. My brothers and I actually smile at one another.

"Anybody mind?" Mikey asks brightly.

"Knock yourself out, bro," Raph shrugs, his smile widening to a predatory grin.

Mikey meets the inbound warrior head on, and in a matter of brief strikes, takes him down. It's not exactly a fair fight – even caught off-guard, we all had a proper night's rest and we haven't just been slogging through close to a mile of the worst tricks we could invent.

Ten more warriors cut through our defenses, each quicker than the last as they find and exploit weaknesses or create holes in our perimeter. We take turns, even when they emerge in a pair, giving Raph some much-needed challenge. It's all too easy, too anticlimactic. But we also know this isn't really the battle before us. This is a warm-up, nothing more. We don't use an ounce of energy we don't have to, we don't waste a moment or a move, and we don't let ourselves become complacent. We don't have to say anything to know what this: preamble.

In the wake of a group of four soldiers who break through the weak point in our defenses, the Shredder emerges. We each take out a soldier in a few blows and return to our line. We stand shoulder-to-shoulder, weapons out and ready. We're not trying to hold a border against the Shredder; that's not why we fall into this formation. We stand here because we are one, together, now and forever. Leo in the center, Raph at his right hand, Mikey on the other side. I'm to Leo's left, with Splinter on my flank.

It's Leo who speaks first. "You are the Shredder who killed our Master Hamato Yoshi."

"I have killed many mortals. What care I for one mortal or another?" the Shredder snarls back. With the illusion of his humanity broken, he looks like I saw him back in Leatherhead's mirror – if not a little grosser. And there's a smell of blackened flesh and sulfur in the air too. Yikes.

"Oh, you're _gonna_ care, buddy," Raph menaces. "I promise you that!"

"It is you who will suffer for what you have done to me!" the demon growls, low and downright scary. "If you surrender whichever of you cast this curse upon me, your deaths will be quicker. If you deny me, I shall torture you all and make the others bear witness!"

"I don't know," Mikey says, grinning. "I think the curse looks good on you. It gives you a certain…personal flair!"

"Insolence!" the Shredder shouts. But he's not charging us yet. Why isn't he charging us yet?

The Shredder opens his mouth – or, rather, he unhinges his jaw so it drops abnormally low – and a black cloud spews forth. It moves with the speed of a striking hawk, but I'm faster. I slam the end of my bo into the earth and one of the dozens of protective sigils I worked into the ground all throughout the village flares to life. The inky black cloud strikes an invisible shield of energy generated from my alchemy and is sucked into the ground at our feet where it will be turned inert.

"You!" the Shredder points his wicked gauntlet at me. Shell. " _You're_ the one who did this to me!?"

"You killed Master Yoshi," I snap back. "There will always be consequences when you take someone from their Clan."

The Shredder laughs and it sounds like rocks grating against each other with metal spikes. "Oh, the loyalty of the ninja Clan. It is a foolish weakness that leaves you vulnerable. Had you not cursed me, I might not have pursued you this far. Your _loyalty_ will be the death of your beloved Clan."

"Maybe someday," I can feel the conviction in Leo's words without even looking at him, "but not today."

And we charge.

As I match my brothers step-for-step, I try to hang onto our tenuous plan. We can't beat this demon in a pure fight. His strength and agility and endurance will outlast us all by _centuries_. We have to find his weakness. All demons have a specific weakness, something that pierces all their powers and leaves them open to defeat. But there's no way to know what it is without trying everything we can think of. What we have to do – all we _can_ do – is stay alive long enough to find it.

So our attack becomes two-pronged. Leo, Raph, and Mikey all strike hard and fast, engaging the Shredder fully. Master Splinter and I hang back, looking for openings in which to test for weaknesses. Between a barrage of furious kicks, I fling an _ofuda_ – not the strongest prayer spell ever because I'm no priest, but certainly a cut above average. It bounces off and the Shredder doesn't even pause. A moment later, Master Splinter appears with a flask of oil and spices that drive away most demons, which he cracks over the bony head. Nothing.

I'm readying my next attempt – an alchemical attack – when the Shredder releases a burst of flame around himself, causing all of us to drop backwards to avoid being burned. Mikey lands half on top of me, and I grunt as the air leaves my lungs.

"Sorry, dude," he says as he pushes to his feet.

"No problem," I reply, shaking myself. Obviously I'm super grateful for the knee to the back of my neck, bro. Thanks ever so.

"Fools!" the Shredder laughs. "What trinkets and tricks are these?" He swipes at the liquid running down his forehead. "You show your ignorance of my true nature!"

My brothers and I exchange a look. Yup, we're all thinking it. This guy wants to tell us how powerful he is and how inevitable our defeat is. Well, that's okay. Maybe we'll learn something. We settle into defensive postures but make no moves to interrupt.

"Against a normal demon, perhaps these would have felled me," the Shredder taunts us, "but I have surpassed any demon ever to walk the earth!"

Well, that's saying a lot. Surpassed in ego, definitely.

"There is a way to remove the demonic weaknesses that plague my kind," he says. "And he was delicious!"

"You consumed the Lord Oroku Saki and took on his guise as well as the power of his soul," Master Splinter says from beside me. "For only the mix of human blood and spirit can erase that which makes a demon vulnerable to human device."

"Of course. And once I free myself of _your_ _gift_ ," he sneers at me so hard I take a step back in instinctive terror, "I will have nothing to hold me back!"

"Let's go!" Leo shouts, and Raph and Mikey jump into the air beside him, the three of them returning to the direct approach.

"No, my sons!" Master Splinter cries out. I'm right there with him. If what sensei says is true, we can't beat this demon any conventional way. We have to find a weakness, but nothing on our list of options will even come close. I watch in horror as the Shredder bats at my brothers like they're flies.

Shell. What am I going to do? I need a new plan, something clever, something… Ancestors, I wish you were here, Leatherhead. I can't do this on my own. I need help.

Gah! My brothers need help!

I launch myself at the Shredder without a second thought, striking hard with the bo. Just in time – I intercept the demon's bladed gauntlet that I remember so well before it cuts a new gash in Leo's shell. I can feel more than see Master Splinter beside me, drawing the Shredder's attention away from my brother. Raph and Mikey collect themselves a few yards away and charge back in.

Strike. Block. Block. Block _again_. Strike. Kick. Backflip out of range. Overhand strike with the bo. And…ha! I manage to get the end of the bo up under his guard and against his chest. I snarl a word and pure force drives him backwards into what I think was somebody's winter storage outhouse. The wood splinters around the Shredder, but as it collapses on him, it gives us a few moments while he climbs out.

"Now what?" Raph demands, spinning his sais with agitation. "The plan's not looking so hot."

"Then we keep fighting," Leo says solidly. "We're not even close to done yet."

"But we totally will be!" Mikey points out, swinging his nunchaku. "If he's all invincible now, we are going to be really out of luck 'cause I don't know about you, but _I'm_ sure as shell not invincible!"

They all look at me and I feel so helpless. I need a plan, I need time to think. I need a distraction.

No time! The Shredder's up again! He charges us, bellowing with rage. We set ourselves to meet him.

But a howling presence comes in from the shadow of The Woods and hits him first.

"Beast!" Shell, I practically drop my bo in surprise. I'm not the only one.

"Donnie, what the shell is going on?" Raph demands.

"I honestly don't know!"

I see it, but I don't believe it. The Beast is here, and he's wrestling with the Shredder. I look more closely – yup, definitely the Beast. That amulet is a very vibrant red. How the shell did he get out so soon? Why did he come here? If we survive this, I'll remember to ask him about it.

The Shredder lashes out and the Beast roars when the metal, which is now _on fire_ , strikes his unprotected skin.

"Leatherhead!" I find myself shouting. My heart is pounding and I'm suddenly terrified. He's the Beast, but he's also Leatherhead. He's both, and he's my friend and I don't want him to die here. I start to run for him.

"Donnie!" Mikey shouts at me. "Don't! You said he's not your friend when he's like this!"

But he is! He's _always_ been my friend! Even when he was practically feral, he still wanted to protect me. He was afraid of this, afraid I would die if I went off to fight the Shredder. He's here for me.

The Beast is here for me. Not as Leatherhead. The _Beast_.

Oh shell!

Time seems to slow to a near-halt. My left foot hits the ground as my thoughts take flight.

How come I didn't see it before? My shale analogy was _wrong_! It isn't that the Beast is stone and Leatherhead is ink – the Beast is more like a piece of paper. But the critical difference between stone and paper is that paper is not one pure thing; it, too, can be split into component parts.

I don't have to pull the ink off the stone to separate Leatherhead from the Beast. I only have to pull out the water, or the wood fiber, or something, and leave the rest behind.

My right foot hits the ground.

If I can isolate a specific part of the Beast, I should be able to pull that out while leaving enough of a base that the part that is Leatherhead can stay layered on top without the pattern dissolving. It's not like chopping a tree down – it's more like taking off the larger fork of a split tree so the sapling springing from the same roots can survive. They share a body, but the body could be equally the Beast's and Leatherhead's. I only have to pull out the worst of the mindlessness and uncontrolled anger in the Beast and leave enough substance behind for Leatherhead to survive.

My left foot hits the ground.

And if there's one thing an alchemist can always, _always_ do, it's pull things apart into their raw components. The mage thought it was all or nothing – Beast or Leatherhead. But I don't think he was right about that. I think there's lots of Beast that can stay a part of Leatherhead and he can still be free of the worst of it. The Beast is a true personality, and he's not that different from Leatherhead. Maybe I can even bring them closer together in some ways and just cast off the monster who lives inside the Beast. I just have to be very, very careful, almost surgical, about it.

My right foot hits the ground.

It might kill me. It might kill Leatherhead. It probably won't kill the Beast because I'm not that lucky. But it might not kill any of us. Not if I have a –

My left foot hits the ground.

-a source of power strong enough to actually unravel this spell, and the will use it.

Time returns to its too-fast pace. I take a leap and plant myself right next to where the Beast has latched onto the Shredder's fiery arms, ripping off my cloak as I do so. There's no time for even a breath of a prayer for hope or luck. I drive my bo into the ground and wrap my body around it as I did when I healed Raph. Then I stretch and close one hand on the Beast's lashing tail and the other on the Shredder's burning arm.

I begin the incantation.

Some part of my brain is aware that there's a metal spike digging into the heel of my hand dangerously close to my wrist, and that the metal is _on fire_. Some part of my brain is aware that the Beast's tail is pulling me close to the gaping mouth and trying to drag me away from where my bo keeps me anchored to the earth. Some part of my brain knows either the Shredder or the Beast could strike me and there is nothing I can do to prevent it without compromising the very thing I'm trying to do.

But most of my brain is focused on the incantation and the energies I need. Keep going. The world fades to insignificance as the alchemy fills my senses, my sight, my whole body and mind and soul.

Here is the Beast's mind, mostly savage and empty. A whisper of a shadow is the only evidence of Leatherhead anywhere in their shared form. No, wait, that's not right. There's a...margin. A broad grey area where he's not quite Beast and not quite Leatherhead. And that's most of him! Shell, if I leave all of that with Leatherhead, I only have to pull away a _part_ of the Beast. I understand the patterns now, one black and one gold, intertwined like a tangle of vines that fade into an odd haze where they meet. I can _see_ them. And that means I can separate them.

And here, in the searing, horrific curse I cast on the Shredder, is the power to do it. It's still a year of my best work, a half-year of preparation, and a year and a half of growing momentum as it caused the Shredder to suffer more and more with each passing day. Its power is bright and unstoppable, a wildfire being driven by a windstorm, made so much worse by the Shredder's true nature. The only way for this curse to break, other than the Shredder's death, was always for me to remove it. But I'm not saving him from it – I'm _using_ it to save my friend.

A pain blossoms in my chest unlike anything since the Shredder's gauntlet almost cut me in half. Ancestors, give me the strength to endure.

Keep going.

"Donnie!" "Don!" "My son!" "Donatello!" I hear you, father. I bet I'm probably scaring the shells off you guys. I'm sorry.

Screaming. Is that me? Leatherhead? The Beast? The Shredder? Maybe all four of us. Impossible to tell.

Oh _ancestors_ that hurts.

Irrelevant. Keep going.

"Donatello, no!" That's Leatherhead! It's working! The Beast is separating from him!

The worst of the Beast's pattern is almost completely unwoven. But this is too much power, too much wizardry, so much more than I need. I can't just break it apart. It has to _become_ something. It has to…

Ancestors please forgive me for what I'm about to do. Well, ancestors and everybody else.

Keep going.

The worst of the Beast is in _my_ mind now, and I can feel it churning and expanding and _oh shell_ is my body growing and changing too?! Shell, it is! I'm becoming a Beast myself! But I can still speak the incantation.

I _will not_ give up, no matter the cost.

"Donatello! You must stop!"

Sorry, Leatherhead. This is the only way I can save you.

One more word. One…more…word…

There's a distant pain and a loud noise and I realize I'm flying backwards and there's a smell of lightning and fire in the air. Oh, and I'm burned. I'm _so_ burned. And bleeding.

" _Donatello_!"

Um, hi Raph. Why are you upside down? No, that's me. I'm on my shell. There must have been a violent reaction by all the energies in play. Or something else unexpected exploded in my face. Ow.

"Donnie, are you okay? You gotta be okay!" Mikey is bellowing in my ear. Can you not do that, bro? Sounds like angry bees under all the loud and pounding blood. Shell, that _hurts_. _Everything_ hurts.

"Did…" I cough. _Ow._ "Did it work?" Did I explode my lungs? Why the shell does it ache so much to breathe? Oh, right. Overuse of alchemy. Channeling an utterly unheard-of amount of power through my body, most of which would have gotten all tangled up in my chest and my hands where I was moving it. I guess I'm lucky I still _have_ hands. Wait, do I? Yeah, I do. They hurt too much to be gone. I guess that's good.

"My friend."

I blink and look up to see Leatherhead approaching. He looks a little different – his body is bigger than I'm used to, and his eyes have settled into a sort of pale green with a touch of yellow.

The amulet is gone.

"Did it work?" I ask again, leaning on Raph as he tips me to a sitting position. Ooh, look at that deep gash in my hand from the Shredder's armor. That's really not pretty. Oh well. It isn't like I haven't gotten accustomed to the feeling of almost bleeding to bleed to death after doing it so often recently. Too bad the Shredder's fiery fire-ness didn't caut...cautize...seal the wound. That would have been useful. Shell, my brains must be burned, too.

"Yes." Leatherhead is breathless and his hands are moving over his chest almost feverishly. But there's no amulet there. There's no need for it. There's just a circular depression and a little scarring.

"You mean the Beast is gone?" Leo, stop glaring at him. That's not fair. If you're gonna glare at somebody, glare at me. It's not Leatherhead's fault I came up with the solution at the absolutely last minute. And that it was kind of spectacular and I'm lucky to be alive and I never ever want to do it again.

"I thought for a minute _you_ were gonna go all Beasty on us," Mikey says in a low voice. "You looked really, _really_ weird. Way uglier than Raph." Oh Michelangelo.

"For a moment, Donatello would have absorbed the essence of the Beast as he drew it from me," Leatherhead explains. "But he did not keep it."

"Then what happened to it?" Master Splinter appears in our little knot, and his forehead is wrinkled and his eyes are flashing. Leave it to our father to seize onto the really important question.

I push myself up to a knee and point. "It's there. I put it there."

Across the clearing, a monstrous, nightmarish Shredder, no longer even seemingly human-shaped as a demon but truly a behemoth wrapped in fire and blood and metal rises screaming from the snow.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...here we go!
> 
> Enjoy!

"Shell, Donnie!" Raph yells.

I shrug. "Sorry?"

"You put the Beast into the _Shredder_?" Mikey practically shrieks. "How is that better?"

"Do you want the long, technical explanation for how that was the only way? Or should we, you know, get ready for a fight?" I reply sharply. I'm cranky now. Pain does that to me. Loopy and cranky. Does that mean I become a Mikey-ified Raph when I'm hurt? A Raph-ified Mikey? Shell.

"He's right," Leo says. "We can have words later." Oh, I know that face. That looks like a lecture of at least two hours' duration headed my way. If we all survive this. Shell. Why do I have the feeling even if he falls in battle Leo will still find a way to come back as a ghost or something just long enough to yell at me?

"Can you fight, my son?" Master Splinter drops to a knee beside me and looks at my very burned arms and my profusely bleeding hand. Oh, and all the rest of the assorted injuries.

"Yes, sensei," I say. "Just give me a minute."

"Allow me." And then Leatherhead is there, his two hands on my shoulders, and the healing washes over me like a very welcome waterfall. I let out a long breath and stand, my skin knitting itself together and the pain dropping away. And...ooh. I must have had a concussion, because suddenly I can think a lot more clearly and a lot less like a deranged and decidedly unhelpful combination of two of my brothers. A concussion would explain the loopiness, anyway.

As Leatherhead steps back, I stand and roll my shoulders. Yup, totally recovered. I give my father a brief bow. "Now I am ready, Master Splinter."

"Good," Leo flashes me a tight smile. "We're gonna need you healthy."

"We're gonna need him, too," Raph tips his head at Leatherhead. "You up for it, big guy?"

"I…" Leatherhead hesitates. I give him an encouraging nod. "I am no expert at battle," he says a little uncertainly, "but I am very strong." Then he looks right at me and his eyes flash brightly and angrily. "And I have very good reason to protect my friend."

"Friends."

I think all five of us turn to Master Splinter with identical expressions of surprise.

"Whatever else we are," my father says, "we are all friends today. It is an honor to count you as an ally, Leatherhead."

I've never seen Leatherhead look so pleased before. I think he'd shed a tear except for the whole giant Shredder demon across the meadow sort of putting a damper on things. He can't speak – I know that set of his enormous jaw. So he just bows to Master Splinter instead.

"Leonardo," Master Splinter turns to his eldest. "Lead us."

I turn back to where the demon has crawled to his feet and is tearing at his armor and shrieking. I've seen the Beast do this before – sometimes a surprise transition would leave him sort of mindlessly flailing until he became accustomed to his body and his surroundings. I feel a new fury light my heart with a power like the heat of the forge.

Game on, Shredder. We owe you a debt for the death of Master Hamato Yoshi. Today you're gonna pay up.

"Break it down for us, Donnie," Leo says. "What makes the Beast Shredder different? What should we expect here?"

My mind races. "He'll still be the same Shredder, but with the mind of a raging savage. So he won't talk as much."

"Nice," Raph comments gruffly. "I was getting sick of his gloating anyway."

I roll my eyes and go on.

"He'll be less susceptible to pain, stronger and faster, and if he's anything like Leatherhead, his very body will be tougher. If he was trouble before, he's at least twice as bad now." I grin in spite of it. "But he'll also be a lot less smart. Easy to distract, easy to enrage and focus elsewhere. He'll have a kind of desperate cunning, but less higher intelligence."

"Depending on what he has inherited from me," Leatherhead adds, "he may also have limited energy, after which he will revert to his previous form, but without any sort of control like that I used to possess," he glances at the depression on his chest that used to house an amulet, "we won't know until it happens."

"So, hyper strong, fast, resistant to pain, mad as shell, and interested in shiny things?" Mikey actually bounces. "Sounds like Raph."

"Shut up." I have no idea how Raph can growl and smile at the same time.

"We still have a problem, my sons," Master Splinter points out. "We are no closer to defeating him now than we were before."

"Don, any ideas?" Leo looks to me.

"Not yet." I slide a glance to Leatherhead and he reads my thoughts and nods. "Let's see exactly how his transformation has changed him and we'll get back to you."

"All right. Let's go!"

The Beast Shredder has turned towards us, but there's a fence in the way – he'd been thrown pretty far by the blast of my alchemy. The fence parts at his rush like he was charging through paper. As we make our own dash forward, it's clear that the demon is a monster of epic proportions. He's much, much taller, broader, and even spiny, the metal of his armor seemingly growing out of his skin now. And he's still on fire. Actually, he's even more on fire.

Leo's front and center, so he makes the first attack, striking hard with both katana even as he ducks under a thickly swinging arm. Mikey pops up right behind him, launching a fierce dragon kick which he follows up by curling into a ball and flipping over the Shredder's head. When Raph enters the gap for a punch, Mikey's already in place to take out the Shredder's legs.

The instant my brothers are clear, while the Shredder tips backwards to the ground, I slam my bo into the earth, calling one of the other sigils I had inscribed. Dirt rises up in a wave and crashes onto the prone form of the demon, half-burying him. His legs and part of his torso are encased in the ground, and I snap a few commands to make the mass of dirt more solid.

I'm surprised and maybe I shouldn't be when it's Leatherhead at Master Splinter's elbow. Our sensei strikes hard at the throat while Leatherhead simply hauls back and punches the demon's chest as hard as he can. The Shredder gives an almighty, deafening roar.

And suddenly there's fire everywhere. On instinct, I drop to the ground to avoid it, looking for my family to make sure they've done the same. I spot my brothers and father, but not Leatherhead. Then there's a cry and a really loud crash to my left. I swivel my head in time to see Leatherhead, thrown by the blast of fire, go through one house and crash into another. I can tell from the slight shimmer of light that he's pulled an alchemical shield around himself, so he's probably not too badly hurt. But still. Shell.

"Apparently the Shredder retains some of his demonic powers," I hear myself say lamely. Thank you, Captain Obvious Turtle.

"We're going to have to do something about that!" Mikey puts in. I'm not sure who's being less helpful right now, me or him.

"Yeah!" Raph gets back to his feet and points to where the Shredder has cleared the dirt away to get back up. "We're gonna kick his shell!"

My impulsive older brother sets off for the Shredder, the rest of us in his wake. But Master Splinter darts in front of me.

"There are enough of us to close with him, my son," he says hurriedly. "Stay back. Watch. Assess. From here you may see what you have not that will give us a way to defeat this enemy." And he spins to join my brothers.

Stay here? Stay here and watch you guys get killed by a monster I created, a monster I brought here, a monster that is all my fault? No. No time for that. Guilt later, Donnie. Focus. It makes sense. This is a fight we probably can't win by strength and ninjitsu alone. It's going to take alchemy and it's going to take something really unexpected. My family is counting on me to find the unfindable, solve the unsolvable.

Well, I already did that once today. Let's see if I can go two-for-two.

Still, it makes me ache to watch them fight a turtle down. There's a blind side in their formation where I should be, and I'm not. They're compensating for it okay for now, but shell. Somebody's going to get hurt.

Leo and Raph have teamed up now with a barrage of fierce strikes with their weapons. Master Splinter and Mikey have taken on the duty of distracting the Shredder. Every time his head turns to one of the two trying to take him down, Mikey and Master Splinter pop into his field of vision and make a feint, pulling his attention and his body in their direction. When the heat from the demon's burning body gets too much for my older brothers, they drop back and switch roles.

Okay. That's something. The Shredder really is as distractable as the Beast was, since it doesn't seem to take much to get him to shift his focus and he forgets what he was looking at the moment he does. That's good. I won't have to outsmart the demon as long as he's still caught up in the Beast's mind. I just have to outsmart what he set into motion already.

Master Splinter said that the Shredder consumed the body and soul of that human Lord Oroku Saki to remove his vulnerabilities. I didn't even know that was possible. Shell. Okay, think. What do I know about demons that will help?

Well, I know this – _that's_ a bad sign! "Look out!" I bellow.

My family doesn't hesitate – the moment they hear my warning they scatter. From their position, they were too close to recognize a build-up of another blast of fire.

This time I push my bo out and snap a word to create a shield of wind and energy in front of me. My brothers fall back behind me for shelter. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Leatherhead doing something similar and standing in front of Master Splinter. The flame comes in a torrent, like trying to stand against a windstorm, and I feel myself sway before I regain my grip. Not a good time to let up the concentration, Don.

Still, I can't help but notice that while the fire might not be doing much to us thanks to alchemy, it's sure hurting the village. The nearest five or six houses are on fire now, not counting the two Leatherhead basically demolished by going through them. And a few more are starting to smoke as the fire keeps coming.

"On the bright side," I hear Mikey quip from behind me, "at least we won't get cold while we do this!"

I don't have to look to know Raph just slapped him upside the head. Michelangelo never changes.

"Round two?" Leo asks. The fire is finally abating so I risk a glance backwards. They're sharing a familiar, wordless exchange. It's the are-you-okay-and-all-in-one-piece-can-you-hack-it-or-are-we-going-to-have-to-escape-but-this-time-we-can't-so-please-be-well-enough-to-fight look.

"If you need healing, let me know," I remind them.

"Nah," Raph shakes his head. "We're good." He strips off his cloak, Leo and Mikey following – with half the village burning, it's not like it's even remotely cold out here anymore.

But I can see that there's a grimness to his words that he isn't admitting. All three of them are a little out of breath, and all three have burns where they've come into contact with the Shredder's flaming armor. Plus, of course, a wide array of small cuts and bruises. They're not in major trouble, but every one of my brothers is already fighting a fatigue that might be more dangerous than the demon.

I've got to find the answer soon.

"New plan," Leo decides. "Quick attacks, then back off. Nobody stays close in for more than a single strike."

Makes sense – they'll be less likely to get hit that way, and there will be less exposure to the fire as well. It could exhaust them with the extra running around, but right now that's the better option. I look to Leo and raise an eye-ridge in question.

"No, you keep back," he answers as he moves to my side. "Master Splinter's right. We're going to need to you find his weak point."

I hate this so much.

"I know you hate it," Leo says, and he flicks his eyes away from the Shredder's form, emerging from the fire as it lets up, to give me a brief understanding look. "You're with us, though, Don. We know you're here. We're counting on you."

That's not what I'm worried about, bro. I _know_ you're counting on me. But so far, I haven't come up with anything. And if I don't…

"You will." And then Leo is beginning to move back over the now-blackened ground to where the Shredder waits. Raph and Mikey and Master Splinter fall in at his side.

"I have had no new thoughts that might improve our situation," Leatherhead says as he comes up to me. I drop the shield as I realize a little late that there isn't fire coming at me anymore.

"Me either."

"My knowledge of demons is limited," Leatherhead admits, "but no creature that lives is infallible. There will be something we can do if we can but identify it."

Right. I know that. Nothing is flawless, nothing is perfect. There is always a gap in the armor. There is always a way past the defenses to the heart.

Wait…

Oh shell!

The amorphous idea that was just starting to tickle in the back of my mind flees as I start to run.

Mikey is pinned on the ground, one of the Shredder's feet holding him down. Master Splinter and Leo got flung really far this time, too far. I'm running with a sharp incantation on the tip of my tongue, and there's horror lancing all through me. The Shredder's gauntlet comes down in a deadly swipe.

Only to be caught by Raph's sai.

Raph is down on one knee, and it's taking all his strength to keep the arm above him, but for the moment Mikey's throat hasn't been slit. Thank shell. But it's only going to be okay for a moment. Even as I take another step, I hear the tortured squeal of the metal prongs breaking.

Suddenly I'm a year and a half before, on a hilltop, watching my bo break and Master Yoshi fall.

" _Not again_!" I scream. Please, ancestors, no! Not my brothers!

There's a flare of light. Leo and Master Splinter, also shouting and running, don't pause and neither do I. We don't need to be able to see to fight, after all. Ooh, this is chaotic. Where the shell are my brothers? Oops, Leo, that's your arm. Sorry. Mikey! Raph! _Why the shell aren't you saying anything_?

Gah, that's the Shredder! Backpedal, backpedal. Backpedal a little more just to be safe.

The light dims and now I can see what's happened.

Mikey is rolling, Raph crouched over him defensively, and they're both moving away from the Shredder. And, am I imagining it but…no! Mikey's fine! So is Raph. But how?

The sai.

The light fades the rest of the way, and I can clearly see that the one sai Raph had in his hand to catch the Shredder's gauntlet is twisted and deformed. Melted at a few points, actually. It looks more like a mutated fork than an elite ninja weapon now. But it did its job. It absorbed all the danger and damage inbound to Raph and Mikey. Just as I built it to do. All that extra alchemy work protected them just as it should have. I mean, I'll be making a new sai if we get out of this, 'cause there's no fixing that one, but I don't care. Raph and Mikey are alive.

Something…I can feel it. An idea. A memory? Something here…there's a way to beat the Shredder. I just need a minute to think about it.

"Thank shell for your stuff, Don," Raph says to me as he tucks the sai away, perfectly content to let Master Splinter take a quick run at the Shredder while he catches his breath. "I dunno why it didn't break when everything else the Shredder has hit goes to pieces, but I'm sure glad!"

That's true. The demonic Shredder sliced through my bo, and Master Yoshi's sword, and his armor, but not the sai. Why? What's the difference?

Wait. I didn't do anything to Master Yoshi's sword. I have no idea what protections were on it from the alchemist to made it long ago. Maybe the spells were different and wouldn't work against a demon. Mine didn't care if it was a person or a tree-branch or a demon or a kitten – if it was going to hurt one of my brothers, the weapon would handle it. But maybe his sword wasn't made the same way. And the armor _didn't_ fail. The Shredder killed Master Yoshi when he wasn't wearing the helmet and his head and throat were vulnerable.

The armor.

Oh ancestors, _the armor_! That's it!

"I've got it!" I cry, then quickly dodge because the battle had gotten close to me while I'd been musing and I don't really want to be on the other end of the Shredder's flailing arm, thanks. "I have to get something. It'll take me a little time."

"Go, my son!" Master Splinter says. "We will hold him here until you return."

"Leatherhead, come with me!"

"Of course!"

"Don!" Leo yells from behind me. "What are you going to do?"

That's a really good question. I've only formed a partial plan here. "Whatever I have to!" I call over my shoulder as I start down the main street.

"Somebody gotta get that guy a leash!" I hear Raph growl between blows. "Always running off with some crazy plan." Gee, thanks Raph.

"What are we going to do?" Leatherhead asks me as we careen past houses and duck towards April's barn.

"The armor that cursed him is here," I explain as fast as I can while sprinting. "It's the only thing that's ever worked against him, the only thing that's ever hurt him. Something about the armor makes it different from everything else. So maybe if we can find out what, that's what we can use against him!"

And I'm getting an idea as to what exactly it is. But I won't know until we test it.

I skid around the corner of April's place and bolt for the barn. Slamming the doors open, I dive for the back stall where Master Splinter told me the armor had been stored. I almost never come back here, but still, I'm amazed I didn't see it before – a giant wooden box in the shadow of the firewood.

"Allow me," Leatherhead offers, slipping past me and grabbing the box. He hauls it out of the barn as though it were a pillow. My brain is whirling with sigils and incantations, but I pause as I look at my friend. No, I wasn't imagining it before. He's definitely much larger than he used to be, and that strength is more Beast than Leatherhead. But he's otherwise my friend. Huh. If we get through the next few minutes, I'll have to ask him about it.

Back outside, Leatherhead puts down the box and unceremoniously rips open the lid. Nestled in strips of rough material, the suit of armor looks at me. I can't help the sharp twinge in my chest as I examine it, still touched with Master Yoshi's blood. Shell. It's like a phantom from the past, the darkest corner of my mind staring up at me accusingly. If armor can accuse.

Come on, Donnie. Focus.

"The armor got inside the Shredder's defenses once," I start to babble as my brain flies ahead, "so it stands to reason that it can do it again. Nothing we have can hurt him now, but maybe because this is already tied into him it can do what we can't."

"Yes, that is plausible," Leatherhead nods, "but how can we be sure?"

"With a test." I grab for the left _suneate_ , noting idly the old dirt that was splashed over Master Yoshi's legs from his battle. The single shin guard is a small enough sample that if this fails miserably I won't be out too much material.

Thank the ancestors I used to do a fair amount of alchemy out here. Near the well that was one of the first fixes I made in town, there's a deep circular indentation in the ground I've used many times. I fling the _suneate_ into the circle and strike it with my bo.

Shell! That was a wave of energy, much more than I expected! I guess I was right that the armor still had a good amount of power left in it.

It takes me a few long moments – really long moments when I start hearing huge crashing noises from the village – to pull the _suneate_ apart into its component metal and leather and wood and ink and the rest. Once I've got it down to its elements, I quickly reforge it into a narrow tanto. Because I have more metal to work with than I need, I concentrate it the way a master swordsmith folds metal many times to make a katana. When it's done, the tanto is black, its hilt the same brown of the lacings that once held the _suneate_ in place, and about as long as my forearm.

"Stay here and protect the armor if he comes anywhere near," I tell Leatherhead.

Okay. Let's find out if I've come up with the way out of this mess or not.

I leap from the ground and make my way to April's roof. From here, I can clearly see how the fight has devolved. The Shredder hasn't lost one bit of his furious savagery, which, at this point, I'm counting as a good thing. I'd rather deal with a Beast Shredder than the coherent one. My family is leading him on a merry chase throughout the town, using their superior agility to keep him occupied but at a distance. Looking at the damage, though, I find myself cringing. Thank the ancestors we evacuated everyone or we'd have a lot of hurt people here.

The tanto feels warm in my hand. I know I should probably hand it off to somebody else to test, but I can't risk it. If there's going to be any kind of consequence, I won't let my family bear the brunt of it. I'm not the best at this sort of weapon, though. I'll have to be clever.

Leaping from April's roof across the street, I fall into the formation my family is using while they harry the Shredder from rooftops.

"Whatcha got, Don?" Raph yells to me.

"I need to get close enough to hit him," I call back. "Got to make sure this works."

"Cover him, Mikey!" Leo orders.

Michelangelo gives us a thumbs-up and adjusts his course. Leo and Raph continue to bounce from place to place, the Shredder roaring as he charges after them. My brothers only stay perched in one spot long enough to draw the Shredder over before they dodge away, mostly keeping the Shredder moving too quickly to actually climb up onto a house or set it on fire. Meanwhile, Mikey and I duck behind a barn before moving up behind the Shredder.

The Shredder senses our presence and whirls in place, but Mikey's already got his nunchaku swinging and blocks the slash. He tangles himself in the Shredder's arms and dances to one side, leaving me a perfect opening under the demon's right arm.

Here goes! I strike forward with the tanto as hard as I can.

I feel the blade slip between two plates of armor and sink deeply into the body beneath. And then the grip in my hand flares brightly. As it begins to pulse with energy, the Shredder's armor in that spot vanishes, and a portion of his unnaturally pale flesh goes with it, too. The crater is only a pair of hand-spans across, but it's the most serious injury we've ever done him. Yes!

Yikes!

Howling in pain, the Shredder turns to me, ripping the tanto away and I don't have anything in my hands. I don't even have time to come up with a defense. I react on instinct.

Um, what the shell…?

"Dude!" Mikey's eyes are wide. We're both looking at where I managed a kicking-block that turned into an over-arm throw and the Shredder is on his back in the snow.

Well, no sense taking that for granted. Mikey and I bolt for the nearest rooftop. Leo and Raph slide into the gap and taunt the Shredder into forgetting us again.

"How the shell did you do that?" Mikey looks at me with wide eyes.

"I have no idea," I'm shaking my head. "I don't even remember learning that move."

"This is a discussion for another time," Master Splinter appears at our side, "but believe me, my son, you drilled in that defense many times in your absence. It was my hope it would help to protect you against the foe you had chosen for yourself at the time. I am very, very proud of you."

Wait…I remember a dream… Seriously, sensei? You taught me that through a _dream_? Yeah, we're gonna talk about that later.

"Plus," Raph calls from across the way, "looks like your little knife did the job. He's hurting bad!"

"We just need about eighteen more of them!" Mikey quips.

No, you just need one big one. I look to Leo.

"I see your plan, Don. Do it! We'll be ready!"

Score one for the mind-reading leader! I give him a sharp nod and duck back out of the fight, evading the Shredder's attention and racing back to April's.

I'm not sure why the Shredder is uniquely vulnerable to the armor, but I can guess now that I've seen it happen. I think it's partly because of him, partly because of me, and partly because of Master Yoshi. All demons have weaknesses – we knew that. When the Shredder absorbed Oroku Saki to purge himself of the usual demonic weaknesses to sacred items and such, he also cut off some of his connection to whatever magical realm or power makes demons in the first place. Most demons can heal themselves after a wound using their inherent powers. The Shredder sacrificed some of that healing to have less need to use it.

On top of that, there was a ton of sheer energy and devotion and protection against evil in the alchemy I used to craft the armor in the first place, and I wasn't too careful how I defined "evil."

But the real advantage is Master Yoshi. If the Shredder had known about the curse in the armor, he would never have killed our Lord so casually, but because he did, that blood he spilled created a connection between them thanks to my curse. Their lives, Master Yoshi's and the Shredder's, were linked by my alchemy. The Shredder is vulnerable to Master Yoshi's honorable sacrifice, embodied by the blood shed while he was wearing it. He absorbed Oroku Saki to become invulnerable to humans, but by killing Master Yoshi while wearing the armor I crafted, he ensured he would always be vulnerable to _one_ human. And I am that man's sworn ninja, Hamato Donatello, entrusted with his life and his blood and his honor.

Time to use my alchemy to finish what began so long ago.

I drop back where Leatherhead waits. He's already moved the rest of the suit of armor into the circle.

"Do you need my assistance, Donatello?" he asks.

"No," I shake my head. "This is my duty." Maybe the most important I've ever undertaken.

I glance one last time at the suit of armor. Master Yoshi, Lord Hamato Yoshi, give me strength. Please grant me the wisdom and power to use your final moments to save the lives of my family, our Clan.

I step into the circle and raise my bo. The alchemy flows from me like water. My mind is blank of everything but the work before me. Rich, complicated words soar in an incantation I'm not sure I ever knew before this moment. I never needed it before this moment. In my mind, I hold the image of my will. Now it is only a question of whether my will and skill are great enough to persevere.

The armor slowly falls to pieces, and I can almost see the wispy evidence of my months and months of labor in crafting it, like ghostly sigils that float in the air around me. But I will not waste a single one of them. I have no idea how many times the metal will be folded to form a blade. Twenty? Fifty? One hundred? It could be a thousand. It doesn't matter. Everything will be used, everything will be reformed and reborn.

When the last tiny dancing flicker of energy fades at last, I hold it in my hands.

It's an _odachi_ sword, much longer than Leo's katanas and broader as well. It's the true weapon of a samurai, and the same kind Master Yoshi once carried. But this one fairly hums with power. The wood of the armor fused into a sheath which, I realize, is inscribed over and over with the many sigils that once graced the armor itself – strength, protection, honor, endurance, luck. The _tsuba_ guard is a large, heavy circular symbol for the Hamato Clan, guarding the sword-wielder's hands at the base of the blade. And the _tsuka_ , wrapped in leather, has taken on a dark red color which, I know, is the touch of Master Yoshi's blood. But the blade itself shines like the white moon, reflective as a still pool.

"Master Yoshi," I bow my head over it for a moment, "grant us your honor and strength."

Then I'm away. I'm hardly cognizant of Leatherhead on my heels as I run. I burst out around the corner of April's to see my family now leading the Shredder back out of the village and towards the fields where the fight began. I follow at a sprint.

"My son," Master Splinter appears at my side, "is it time at last?"

"Yes, sensei," I answer. "I have something that can beat him."

I want to stop and hand off the _odachi_ properly with a bow but we don't have the time for that. I can tell Master Splinter understands because he takes it from me with quick reverence. As soon as the sword has left me, I feel a sudden exhaustion wash over me and I nearly drop. What the shell?

Oh, right. Overuse of alchemy again. By two or three times, really. The power inherent in the sword that came from the armor was literally the only thing holding me up.

"Remain here, my son," Master Splinter grips my arm tightly. "You have earned your honor already. Let us finish this now."

He races to where my three brothers are facing off against the Shredder once more. Left behind again! But there's logic to it, and I know this isn't meant as a slight. I'm so tired I don't know that I could do more than strike once or twice with my bo before I slipped and left an opening from which there might not be any coming back. I want to be there, but I need them to win more than I need to share in the victory. And they'll do better if they don't have to keep an eye on me.

Ooh, swaying.

"I have you, my friend." Leatherhead's hands close on my shoulders and he eases me to where I can sit on what I think used to be part of a fence.

"Leatherhead," I begin.

"I understand," he nods at me, his eyes warm in spite of their odd yellowish hue. "I will guard them in your stead as you have guarded me so many times. Fear not, Donatello. I shall keep your family safe."

He's off before I can come up with a good reply. If he'd waited, I'd have told him to guard himself, too.

Master Splinter draws the _odachi_ smoothly, and even from here I can see his face crease in surprise and admiration for its quality. He barks a command at my brothers and they fall into position around him. I know this plan. Leo will guard Master Splinter's off side while Raph and Mikey go ahead. Their job is to immobilize the Shredder so that Master Splinter can strike the final blow. The tightness of the four of them means the attack will be lightning quick.

Here they go.

Oh shell!

The Shredder must be returning to himself, less Beast now, because he blocked that like a ninja, not a monster. He swipes and Master Splinter goes spinning away and the _odachi_ flies free. I'm running, kind of, to make sure he's okay, but I lose my balance and drop to a knee, catching myself on my bo. I hear Raph bellow behind me.

Shell. It's just like it was. Master Splinter is on the ground and I'm here and…

Leatherhead roars.

I should get up and run to my father but I turn in spite of myself. Raph and Mikey are down – looks to me like they tried to physically grab onto the Shredder's arms to hold him still and got really beat for their trouble, Raph especially. But Leatherhead has closed with the demon and wrapped his arms around him. I'm right – the Shredder is definitely transforming back to himself. At the moment, he and Leatherhead are just about the same size. Leatherhead's head is mostly turned away from me, but I catch the glitter of one eye just over the Shredder's shoulder.

Leo appears on the edge of my vision. He's retrieved the sword.

"For Master Yoshi!"

He's going to die. Leatherhead is going to die.

Time stops again.

I can see it in the eye turned towards me. Leatherhead knows that Leo can't completely destroy the demon without landing a killing strike, and he can't get that strike without probably cutting Leatherhead in two.

"Now, Leonardo!" my friend shouts.

Leo hesitates for one step before he charges forward. Oh shell. Oh shell! My brother is going to kill my friend!

No! I won't let it end like this!

I lurch to my feet, tracking Leo's movements. I can't get there in time. He's too fast and I'm too far behind. But my bo is suddenly hot in my hand, as though I'd put the metal in the fire. Of course! Leatherhead helped me build this bo. It's attuned to him a little, like it is to me. The bo is built to work miracles to protect its bearer.

I don't need to think. I just need to trust.

Ancestors, I hope this works!

I hurl the bo as if it were a spear. In midair, its shape utterly breaks apart as I bark a fierce command, and it's more like a zephyr or a sunbeam than a metal staff now.

Leo's sword falls.

_AAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!_

Ahh! What a noise! My eardrums must be bleeding! I realize belatedly that I'm curled on the ground and covering my head with my hands as though that would block out the sound. It doesn't. But the sound only lasts for a few moments before silence fills the area.

My head hurts so much, and I don't know if it's from that noise or yet more use of alchemy when I practically killed myself twice over that way today. Doesn't matter. I have to know what happened. I get to my feet – slowly, painfully – and try to get my bearings.

Behind me, I can hear Master Splinter moving around. I'm still blinking in the reality when I feel his paw on my arm.

"Come, my son," he says gently.

Across the clearing, my three brothers are all uncurling from where they had gone down at that awful noise the same way I did; they form a rough triangle around the area where the Shredder had been constrained by Leatherhead. Michelangelo actually yanked his bandana down and tucked the ends into his ears a little. It doesn't work much – our ear canals are really tiny – and he looks absolutely stupid when he stands up, like his orange bandana is some sort of deranged set of reins.

"Nice headgear," Raph comments dryly. But he stumbles when he stands, so I lean over to give him an arm. If my own head decides to stop ringing enough for me to ever feel like I can do alchemy again, I'll have to mend that twisted knee of his.

"Don," Leo gets up and faces me. Shell, he looks so sad. "I'm…I'm sorry. There wasn't…any other way."

"Yes, there was." I smile a little tiredly.

In the middle of the triangle of my brothers, there's a really smelly, really ugly black smear of a leftover corpse. It doesn't have bones or flesh or anything I can identify as a body, not without looking closely, and there is nothing in the world that makes me want to get any closer to _that_. Gross! But underneath that sticky, burned-smelling smear, is Leatherhead.

Leatherhead who sits up, blinks his eyes in surprise, glances down at the demonic, um, _leftovers_ smeared all over his front, and then immediately clamps his jaw shut and scoots to one side.

I can't help it. I start laughing.

Leatherhead glares at me, then traces something in the dirt beside him. A jet of water rises from the ground, probably pulled from the well not far away, and he carefully cleans away the demon's remains. I know Leatherhead has a very sensitive nose, though, so I can't blame him for keeping his nostrils folded down and his jaw clamped shut until he's no longer splattered. I can't blame him at all, but I'm still going to laugh. I've been too worried for too long to stop myself from giggling now.

"Don, how?" Raph asks me. "Fearless doesn't miss."

"Duh! He _didn't_ miss, dude," Mikey points out, gesturing to the now somewhat diluted yucky pile.

"It was because of this," Leatherhead has finally moved away from the remains enough to be able to breathe again, and he holds in his hands my bo, perfectly reformed.

"I saw you throw it," Leo says curiously.

"Remember, every weapon I make is built to protect you," I say. "Leatherhead and I built this bo to protect me from the Beast, but it was also meant to protect Leatherhead from the Beast. So when there was no other option, the bo itself responded."

"Like my sai did," Raph nods, touching his poor melted sai with awe.

"Exactly," I shift a little so I can grasp the bo in Leatherhead's outstretched hands and shift our weight to it instead of my unsteady legs. "If Leo had been a step farther ahead, I wouldn't have made it. But—"

"But I hesitated," he says. He looks at Leatherhead and then bows deeply. "I could not bring myself to harm an ally, a friend, and yet there was no choice. I am so sorry, Leatherhead. I could have killed you."

"But you didn't," my friend rumbles. "Donatello's bo reached me before your blade and caught the edge of the sword before it could harm me. I will doubtless have a bruise," and now we can see a line right down his chest where it looks like he ran torso-first into a tree. "But the bo curved around the tip of your blade and spared me. It was perfectly built and used."

He turns to me and smiles with pride. I think I'm blushing at the sudden attention. Shell. Raph snickers. Even worse.

"This is twice today you have saved me, Donatello."

"And you saved us," I tell him stubbornly. "You – the Beast – whatever, you came for us when we were in real trouble. And you held the Shredder long enough for us to defeat him. We couldn't have done it without you."

Then I remember and I peer at him. "How did that happen, anyway? How are you here now? I don't understand."

"Ah," Leatherhead nods. "To be completely honest, I am not entirely certain myself."

"What do you remember?" I ask.

Leatherhead turns to me with an odd expression. "Your voice, Donatello."

"My what?"

"Your voice," he repeats. "You needed my help. It was the very first thing in my awareness after I stepped into that alcove."

"But...how...?"

Leatherhead smiles fondly. "In this, my friend, I believe that we must thank the Beast himself. For just as he once broke free of your icy prison to terrorize you, this time he overcame all your power not through rage and mindlessness, but through a loyalty he had never known before. I heard your cry for help, and somehow the Beast did the rest."

Well, when I changed the lock on that alcove down in our lab I did leave something behind that was tied to myself that would let him out, and I didn't entirely understand everything about it. I guess it's possible that there might have been some kind of sympathetic link between my desire to save my friend and his ability to come and save me.

"Even if that's true," I say, "I didn't really think about needing help until seconds before the Beast – you – arrived. You couldn't have heard me, broken free, and gotten here in time."

"And yet, I did," Leatherhead's expression is warm and happy. "My memory is admittedly strange as my mind begins to absorb all that the Beast once possessed, but I believe that I heard you when you had not yet called for me."

Oh, yeah. The Beast was precognitive. That makes sense.

But Leatherhead isn't finished yet. To my surprise, he bows to me. "Donatello, my dear friend, I owe you my life. You have saved me from an evil I could not have undone alone. And it was managed not only by your skill and sacrifice and daring, but by an act you had undertaken that brought you great shame."

Yeah, thanks for reminding me.

"But because of that shame, you have given me my life again. As you once gave me your own." Still not looking up from the bow, Leatherhead's voice goes soft and low. "Which I now return to you, Hamato Donatello. Your oath to me is fulfilled. Your honor is your own again, and it is restored. And it is I who now owe you everything I have to offer. I am in your debt, Donatello."

"Quite so," Master Splinter steps up. "However, we too owe you a very great debt, Leatherhead. The debt of our victory, and of our lives, but most importantly, we owe you the debt of our hearts."

Huh? Leatherhead looks up, just as confused as I suddenly feel.

"You gave us back Donatello," Mikey explains softly. "He went to you when he was busted and you fixed him. And then he came back and he was himself again. We," he swallows hard and his voice comes out almost a whisper, "we didn't think we'd ever have _our_ Donnie back again."

"It is Donatello who fixed _me_ ," Leatherhead starts to protest. I am starting to wish I could melt into the grass and stop getting talked about. Raph snickers again and scruffs my head.

"Then there is only one path forward," Master Splinter says. "Because a debt of this magnitude cannot be owed to an outsider by an honorable Clan, and we _are_ an honorable Clan," he smiles. "All of us."

And suddenly I'm grinning and Leo is smiling and Mikey is bouncing and even Raph looks pleased.

"I don't understand," Leatherhead looks at all of us.

"We owe you our lives and our brother," Leo answers. "You owe Donatello your life. We owe you our honor and you owe Donatello your sanity. Bonds like that connect people and honor demands we recognize that connection in full. It means you are one of us, now and forever. It means you are a part of the Hamato Clan."

I've never seen Leatherhead weep for joy before.


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a real pleasure writing for all of you. Never fear – there will be more TMNT fic from me one of these days, probably not for a while since 2015 is all scheduled for other stuff. But I always cycle back and I've already got 2 different stories begun with our favorite ninja turtles at the front and center. In the meantime, thank you everyone who has supported me and cheered me along for this adventure. This story meant a lot to me, and it means even more that you have been so fond of it.
> 
> And who knows? There's a lot more in the world. Maybe there's a sequel in me yet. Only time will tell.
> 
> Until then, thank you all for joining me on this journey.

A week later things seem almost normal again.

The villagers come back, and when we introduce them to Leatherhead and tell them the story of how he selflessly risked everything to protect us, their fear of him melts. It helps that, even though he's still big and intimidating, his eyes have never been so kind. April takes to him at once, and, just like with us, anybody she likes eventually wins the heart of everybody else.

Of course, everyone is inclined to be pretty cheerful around her anyway – April is _radiant_ with joy because apparently Casey Jones got up the courage to ask her to marry him while they were stuck down in the tunnels. Weird timing, I guess, but hey, it worked!

There is so much damage across the village it is ridiculous, but between my alchemy and Leatherhead's, not to mention his Animal strength, we start the rebuilding. My brothers dive in pretty whole-heartedly, too, but we mostly press them into keeping interested gawkers out of our way. By now, Leatherhead and I can basically forge houses out of the ground without a whole lot of effort, a lot more easily than building a maze, anyway. Good thing, too – there's a _lot_ of houses to rebuild in the middle of winter.

And there's also a new house in the village before we're done. Right now, it's a big single room, just on the other side of our dojo but still within the area I cast that protection on when I first left to give myself up to the Beast. We – my family, Leatherhead, and I – all decided we would want to make sure to give each other space to get used to each other, but we also wanted Leatherhead close. Especially me. So now we're neighbors, and he and I are already making plans to expand his little house so we can have a big lab again.

Every morning feels like a miracle when I wake up in my bed and hear the sounds of my father and brothers. To go to practice in the dojo. To get scolded by Master Splinter for being distracted – or being distracting. To squabble over chores. To laugh at Leo behind his back, to laugh at Mikey for being Mikey, to laugh at Raph for fighting with them both. I watch them and I never, ever get tired of being here.

That's what I'm doing now, watching them. Raph and Mikey have decided to fix April's roof "the old-fashioned way" and are up there now. They swore they didn't need or want my help, but I feel better sitting here with my back to April's barn where I can see them, just in case something goes wrong. Not that I really expect it to. They're mostly chucking shingles at each other, it seems. Oh, and that was a hammer. Good thing Mikey's got such quick reflexes!

"You really scared us there for a minute, you know," Leo says, sitting next to me. Leave it to Fearless to wait a whole week before telling me his thoughts on our big fight.

"When _didn't_ I scare you?" I grimace at him. "The whole thing seemed pretty scary to me! You're going to have to be more specific, bro."

"When you latched onto the Beast and Shredder that way, I thought for sure…" I can hear his throat close against a harshness that wasn't there a moment ago.

Oh, Leo. It's amazing. He can slice through enemies on the battlefield with a calm expression, and he can shoulder the burdens of the world with a wry smile, but he can't talk about one of us getting hurt without falling half apart. He really loves us that much.

Back at you, big brother.

"You thought I was going to take it into myself," I finish for him.

"Yes."

"Nope," I shake my head. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I could have. And it probably would have been better for everybody because then I wouldn't have created the ultimate demonic opponent for us and…" I close my eyes. These what-ifs will be the death of me one day. What if we hadn't survived? What if we hadn't found a way to defeat him? What if someone had been killed because he was just too strong?

But we survived. We beat him. Focus on that, Donnie.

"But I couldn't," I say. "It would have been easier, and there would have been a certain justice to it, after all." Leo's face folds into real annoyance and I rush on before he starts lecturing me. "But that's not what I wanted. By some definition, I've paid for my crime fully now. I did break the curse, after all, and I also saved Leatherhead, which never even entered my thinking as a possibility when I went to him to atone and expected to die instead. If I'd taken the Beast into myself, there would have been a certain poetic balance to it, but I wouldn't…"

I look up at Leo and hold his gaze. "I wouldn't have gotten my family back that way."

"You would," he says, "even if we'd have had to look after you the way you did Leatherhead. We wouldn't have abandoned you, Don."

"That's not what I mean," I reply. "I know you guys would have been there for me. But _I_ wouldn't have been there for _you_ , and that's what I wanted. My time with Leatherhead showed me what his life has been like. Hundreds of years, Leo, _hundreds_ spent alone. And when he did have me, he was afraid of himself, afraid to be a friend or to let me trust him because he knew how it could end. If I had become the Beast, I wouldn't have really been your brother anymore. I couldn't have been."

I suddenly remember a conversation we had back when my shame was new, back before we'd found a village, back before I'd healed from our first encounter with the Shredder. I remember Leo telling me that my being named as an ancestor would have been an honor they'd have willingly given me, but they wanted me as a brother more. And for that, I had to be alive. I had to be here with them.

I can see Leo remembering that conversation, too.

"I have had enough of not being here," I say. "I have had enough of not being a part of this family to last me more than one lifetime. I won't give that up, not ever again."

"Good," Leo nods once and breaks out in one of the brightest, most lighthearted smiles I've ever seen out of my serious older brother. I feel a last worry I didn't even know I was carrying melt inside. I knew I was loved, even in the depths of my despair. It's something else to be _wanted_ as well as loved.

I duck my head and tuck it on Leo's shoulder. He puts an arm around me.

"Welcome home, little brother. Welcome _back_ , Donatello."


End file.
